After Friendship
by Pr-anx
Summary: Due to a falling out Daxter disappears, leaving Jak to search for him. What he doesn't know is who Daxter has sought comfort from. Will Jak reclaim his friendship with our favorite red-head, or will Daxter move on? You have to read to find out. Rated T for cursing
1. Search and you will find

I know this is a short chapter, but this is only a taste, really. I just want to see how this story goes in terms of readers and reviewers. This was actually a birthday present for my elder brother who loves this pairing. It took forever to write lines for Razer seeing as I've never finished Jak X, and therefore know nothing about how it ends. BUT, as I've said, it's a b-day present and a sort of AU fic. Anywho, enjoy!

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Jak stood on the out-cropped stone that served as the palace's balcony. He searched the quiet city below for any sign of a short red-head. He did this every day hoping to catch a glimpse of his lost friend. His lover. His Daxter. Two weeks ago, they'd fought. Daxter ran from Jak after a transformation gone bad and hadn't been seen since.

He'd sought out help from Sig, Tess, Keira, Torn, everyone he knew. They had searched near and far, and yet no trace could be found. It was like he just disappeared off the face of the earth. Samos hadn't been much help. "If the boy wants to run, it's for a good reason. Just like when you two were small. If he wanted to be found, you'd have found him by now." Was all he said, which didn't settle Jak's stomach at all. If Daxter didn't want to be found how would Samos know? How would anyone know if he was safe or in mortal peril?

There was only one person he could ask, and knew he shouldn't. His greatest enemy other than Barron Praxis or Errol...

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Razer reclined on his favorite spot on the sofa, feet up on the coffee table in front of him. All was going well. His new team was fixing up his car, he had a new carton of smokes, and he was expecting Jak any moment now. The racer had been very uptight about something and dodged every question like it was a disease. Razer was slightly curious about the impromptu visit from his nemesis, but he had a slight suspicion about what the problem was.

As if on cue, Jak walked into the room. Well, it was more like a half stomp, half stumble than a walk. Lack of sleep and obvious aggression: Total Jak.

"You wanted to speak with me, Jak?" Jak stood in front of Razor, a kind of pained look on his face.

"I'm...I need your help." Razer feigned shock, but it was slightly twisted with a small smirk.

"With what? I thought you knew how to change a tire by now." The dark haired man teased. Jak scowled. Joke not taken, Razer noted.

"Daxter's missing and I need your help to find him. We've already searched the entirety of Haven, Spargus and even through every jump portal available." Razer smiled.

"What if he doesn't want to be found? Have you thought about that, Mr. Hero?" Jak knew there was a reason he hated this guy other than on the track. Razer waved a hand as if he were a fly buzzing around his face. "I may know of someone who has info. You may not like how this scenario turns out."

"Tell me who. I'll pay you anything for the information." Razer smiled.

"Money won't be necessary in this situation." Before Jak could question him, Razer picked up his comm. "Team one, is your chief in?"

"Yes sir, you need him?" Someone answered. The sound of heavy machinery in the background almost drowned him out completely. Razer took a drag of his cigarette.

"Yes, send him up. Tell him it's important." The other person confirmed and the line cut. Jak glared at the coolly nonchalant man in front of him. Not even a minute later, the double doors to Razer's personal office flew open and someone stomped in pulling off their gloves angrily. They were dressed head-to-toe in racing leathers, wearing a protective helmet over their head and dark goggles.

"This had better be important, Razer, I was just working on the plasma cannons an' I don't trust anyone but me to do the job. What do you need me fo-" they stopped talking as they spotted Jak. Jak's mouth went dry. He knew that voice; he'd never be able to forget it for as long as he lived. Daxter took off his helmet and goggles. He flung his helmet to the ground beside the door and left the goggles to hang around his neck. He looked exactly the same, save for the black soot on his face and his hair was a little shorter. And, had he grown an inch or two? His blue eyes shone with distaste and a hint of fear. Jak looked back to Razer. He only shrugged.

"I told you that you may not like how it turns out. Daxter, this man is looking for you, did you know that?" Daxter huffed and threw his gloves in the up-turned helmet on the floor.

"Didn't know I was lost. Can I go back to work, or am I taking lunch now?" Razer looked to his watch.

"0:600? Ten minutes until your break." Daxter sighed as Jak looked on, horrified of Daxter's reaction and appalled that he would let Razer tell him what to do.

"It'll take me that long just to get re-hashed on the cannons. It wasn't worth the trouble to come up here." Razer shrugged.

"Take ten, then. Maybe we can find out what our friend here needs." Razer fixed Jak with a smug smile. Daxter rolled his eyes and went into the built-in kitchenette to scavenge. Jak growled at Razer, who had watched Daxter enter the small room and disappear behind the single steel door.

"What did you do to him?" Razer smiled and took the last drag of his cigarette before letting it smolder out in the ashtray. Jak watched him, furious. His fists were clenched so tightly at his sides, his knuckles were starting to turn white and an annoying pin-prick was running up each finger.

"I haven't done anything. He came here looking to escape his old life and to find a job. He's a good worker and a perfectionist at anything he sets his mind to. Why would I deny him?"

"Escape his old life? What did he have to escape?" Razer shrugged again.

"You?" Daxter burst out of the kitchenette and angrily walked to his gear.

"Take my break later, R. Some nut just messed up a perfectly good morph gun shipment for the hoods and I have to sort it out. By the way, someone ate all the condiments. Don't know who, 'cause who eats just condiments, but something needs to be done to them." He rambled as he replaced his helmet and gloves. "If you need me, you know where I am." He put on his goggles and out the door he went. Jak spared Razer one last glance before taking off after the red head.


	2. Found, but still lost

Thanks to SunnyHomes for turning two paragraphs into a full chapter, and for helping me come up with ideas for the chapters to come.

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Razer knew was meant to be asleep as commanded by the younger at his side, but so was Daxter. He was sure, though, that neither of them was. It was easier, he guessed, to just lie there in the companionable silence rather than explain to the other why sleep wasn't coming easy. The experienced racer watched as the red-head scrunched his nose and wriggled closer into his side, creating a pillow out of arm that was clearly less comfortable than it looked.

Sometimes he forgot that, at one time, Daxter wasn't quite as human.

As his charge had told him before, the majority of his years have been spent upright and tail-less, but there was still a time he trotted around on four legs and scratched his ears with his toes. Even now, the characteristics still showed that he'd once been an ottsel. He still curled up just a bit too small, his nose reflexively navigated the bed in his sleep and there had been more than one occasion Razer had woken up with teeth in his arm.

That was okay, of course. He was a fine human, and one hell of a mechanic. He'd give Jak's little blue haired wrench-wench a run for her money. Razer smirked.

Maybe it was hard for Jak to realize what he had when Daxter was just an animal on his shoulder.

Looking over the young face, he flicked his finger under the long thin ear that had bent awkwardly and it sprung back. The pair giving a small unconscious bounce and relaxing back to the sides of his head. How could you not care for such a man?

He admired the other for a moment longer and, deciding Daxter wasn't going to wake, Razer hunkered down and sleep came just a bit easier.

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Daxter felt the dark haired man relax at his side and sink away into the sheets. He cracked open one eye to stare at the still-rising sun through the half-open curtains.

There was something terrible about mornings in Daxter's opinion. If it were up to him, morning wouldn't start until around 11, and any hour before would be considered ungodly and very illegal. Still, there was one good thing about waking up at the ass-crack of dawn; he had plenty of time to snuggle up to the portable heater that was Razor, and think.

Sure, the races had gone well, surprisingly, with Jak and his Razer finishing neck-and-neck after destroying the other team. But Daxter had watched from the side-lines, nerves racked and nails nearly bitten to the nub as Edjie and Cutter's cars had been totalled during the third lap. Both left with near-fatal wounds and trashed cars that Daxter was eager to get his wrench to. Many times during the race, Daxter had to fight the instinct to cover his eyes and ears each time Razer's car had been shot, bombed, or sometimes even run off the course.

Luckily, the cars were the only fatalities-which was a rarity on all parts. Even the other team, who had survived with only a couple broken bones and the slightest tethers of their pride left intact, felt it was appropriate to celebrate their survival- though Daxter found himself doubting if the individuals driving would be repeating their combat against Jak and Razer.

The red-head sat up and patted the older man's chest to make sure he was asleep. He played with one of the seams in Razer's red silk pyjamas for a second, before rolling out of bed, too busy with his thoughts to bother going back to sleep, and walked into their apartment's living room. Thoughts of the race lead him back to the current reason of his stress.

Why wouldn't Jak just leave him alone? Daxter's life had been going well during the two – nearly three – Jak-less weeks and he had thought maybe, just maybe, his life would stay normal. But the precursors had it in for him, those damn furry rats. Daxter paused and furrowed his brow, pushing his bottom lip forward with a 'huph'.

Great, now he was blaming a trio of Ottsels that weren't even on this planet anymore.

He sifted through the couch cushions in search of the remote. And, after finding a couple dollars, a candy wrapper –and, with a mix of revulsion and dismay, the squished candy that went with it- and a couple pens, he finally located the illusive remote.

Daxter turned on the television, groaning as none other than Blitz himself popped up along with his annoying co-host, Pecker- the pea-brained loud-mouth that had self-love complex and an accent that would make one's ears bleed if you even tried to listen.

During Daxter's final years of ottsel-dom, him and Pecker had gotten into more than 'heated arguments'- arguments that usually lead to 'heated brawls' and then the ever popular 'time-outs'. Now, thankfully, the terrible-talker gave him a pretty wide berth.

_"That's right G-baby!" _Pecker squawked, waving his wing dramatically into the lens,_ "we have confirmed that one Daxter has left Krew's team and is now riding with Razer!"_ An image scrolled across, buzzing with static and shifting in and out of focus. It was Jak and Keira, facing off against Daxter who, if you looked close enough looked as though he may be about to cry.

He strained his ears, but the ape-faced commentary was too loud to hear what they were saying.

_"Do you imagine Jak's team with suffer greatly for their lost team member?"_

Daxter didn't wait for the response over the sickening feeling, as if someone had just punched him in the throat. Daxter watched in a slight state of shock as Jak grabbed his arm –making him unconsciously rub the still slightly sore limb as he watched the scene unfold- and pull him close.

He hadn't realized until now, how close his and Jak's faces had been. Only an inch or so closer and-

With a surge of complete fury and disgust, he drove his fist into a pillow and angrily slammed the inanimate object onto his lap, wrapping himself around it as if it were the last thing holding him to the earth.

_"I've said it once, and I'll say it again Blitz Man. Jak is a three time hero and I'd be surprised if anyone believes his team will ache over this betrayal. However, I know Razer's crew sure have found a diamond in the rough with this one. It surely has been their lucky break!"_

Yep, that settles it. Mornings are bad news unless spent by the side of one certain brunette.

To his relief, the other racer made his way onto the screen, glaring at his competition, and pulled the red-head in to the safety of his arms.

_"Ouch! That looked like it hurt more than his pride!"_ Daxter turned the TV off and threw stowed the remote back under the cushions as the camera zoomed in on Jak's mournful face.

He rubbed his bare forearm and sighed, suddenly feeling the urge to shower.

Daxter jumped as something heavy and warm sat on top of his head, but calmed as he heard Razer's thoughtful hum.

"Thought you would sleep longer than that." The dark-haired man said with a yawn. Daxter smiled and reached up, running a hand through the darker man's hair. Razer moved his hands from their resting place under his chin on Daxter's head to the red-head's shoulders, giving them a light squeeze.

Daxter smiled and laid his head on the back of the couch to kiss Razer's chin. "You should be the one sleepin' Raze." In a rare display of affection, Razer trailed light kisses from Daxter's forehead to his chin. Daxter smiled and closed his eyes, revelling in the feeling of being loved.

Razer always seemed to know how to guess his feelings, and make him feel better in no time with just a simple gesture.

But, as all good things usually do, it came to an end and Razer moved to the front of the couch to sit next to Daxter, lit a cigarette and pulled the shorter man closer.

"How about that holiday?" he said after a few moments of silence. Daxter smirked and snuggled further into Razer's warmth.

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A/N: I hope you like it! Next chapter will be up soon.


	3. What happens stays with you

Hallo, Thar! Welcome to the next installment of AFTER FRIENDSHIP! yaay~ In this chapter, you all get a nice little peek-a-boo at what happened to our -slightly- lovable heroes that split them up. Enjoy lovlies!

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Daxter was finally out of the garage by 10:15 and on his way to his favorite bar. The Naughty Ottsel was only about half a mile away from the garage and he was happy to have the quiet ride to think.

Why would Jak be looking for him anyway? The last time they spoke- if you could call that speaking- Jak had pretty much told Daxter he wasn't wanted.

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Two Weeks Earlier

"Jak look, all I'm sayin' is I want just a week off of being your little side-target. I'm tired of being the one person people kidnap just to get to you and I'm tired of working on a car I perfected over a month ago. Can't we just take like a week or maybe even just like, I dunno, a day or two off?" Daxter half begged half yelled. Jak crossed his arms and shook his head.

"How are we supposed to get anything done if we laze about for a week? And if you want to stop being kidnapped, stop being such an obvious target. That parts not my fault. And no one said to continue working on Javelin. You just keep going like your gonna find a bomb one day." He said from his position on their shared bed. Daxter stopped his pacing to stare at Jak incredulity.

"Well, hello, you think it's my fault your enemies look everywhere just to find me? It ain't my fault you've got so many of them poking around your garage. And what if I do find a bomb one day? I only check it every day 'cause I care about your safety!" Jak stood up and walked over to Daxter.

"That doesn't mean you have to mother me, Dax. You're not my mother, you're my boyfriend." Daxter angrily grinned.

"Oh, I am huh? Well, now you've brought that up, how's Keira? And Tess? How about all those other girls you've been meeting at the bars? Hear you've been pretty busy lately." Jak glared and Daxter could've sworn the air was charged.

"They're nothing, Dax. You know that. They've been helping me with parts for Javelin." Daxter rolled his eyes and crossed the room to sit on the bed.

"They've been helping you with parts alright, but not for your damn car. You know, I bet you care more about that car than you even care about me." Daxter said. All Jak ever talked about was that car and Daxter was sick of it. He was tired of being number three in Jak's life. Or whatever number he was now that there were women involved.

"Until this race is over and we're safe from all these fucking people trying to kill us in our sleep, yes; it is. Javelin is way more important than anything because it will help us win, help us survive. And if you can't handle that then….then you should…." Jak nearly yelled, even though it was _because _of the races people were trying to kill them. Daxter shot up and stood chest to chest with Jak. He glared up into the now stuttering face of his best friend and lover.

"Should what, Jak? Leave? Fine, I'm gone; me and my stuff are out of your hair. Permanently." Daxter pushed past the gaping blonde and grabbed his knapsack, piling it with clothes and a little food from their hidden reserve under one of the stones under the bed. He had just tied it when he felt the air buzz with electricity. He turned just in time to dodge a fist aimed at his head.

He could taste the air and it took all he had not to gag.

There was Jak…no, Dark Jak, claws fully extended and horns glittering in the natural light streaming from the open balcony window. He was growling and reaching for the red-head. Daxter skittered back against the bed post and watched his best friend stalk in for the kill.

Jak raised a clawed hand.

Daxter jumped to the right, but his shoulder was still caught by the steel talons attached to Jak's hand. He almost made it to the door when his head was gruffly grabbed and he was pulled back and flipped over. Dark Jak stood over him with a feral grin. Then his hands were around Daxter's neck, squeezing slowly. Daxter clawed at his hands, trying to free his abused neck, but Dark was too strong.

He could hear his own breathing.

He could feel his heart beat in his head.

Then it was suddenly gone; the hands around his throat, the electricity, the thickness of the air. Daxter felt lightheaded, but jumped unsteadily to his feet. He wobbled once before regaining his balance and grasped the bed post as he stared at Jak, frightened.

Jak had stopped himself. Or, rather, he had stopped Dark Jak. He saw the look Daxter was giving him. Fear and pain and betrayal. They were all swimming beneath those cloudy baby blue eyes. What had he done?

"Dax-"he took a step forward, but stopped short when Daxter tried to scoot closer to the bed.

"I-I see where w-we are Jak." His voice was hoarse and shook worse than his legs. It only took a minute later and he was gone, running unsteadily down the corridor with his knapsack in hand.

They were no longer Jak and Daxter. They were two separate people now. And it hurt in more ways than one.

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Daxter parked his racer outside the Naughty Ottsel and sighed. He wasn't ready to face Tess. He'd been gone for two weeks without a word, and she didn't know he knew she'd slept with Jak. But, this was the only bar in Haven, so it wasn't like he had much of a choice.

He shoved the keys in his pocket and walked in. It was still the same swanky looking place he'd left it after the re-construction.

And, unfortunatly, Tess saw him immediately upon his arrival.

"Daxxie! Where have you been, I've been worried sick. Jak's been in here looking for you almost every hour of every day." Daxter smiled as much as he could, knowing that Tess was one of the women who had broken his trust by sleeping with Jak.

"Well, he found me." He said with a grin and a shrug.

"Why aren't you two together anymore? Did something happen?" Tess looked utterly innocent, which almost made Daxter laugh. Almost.

"Found out he was sleeping with a couple of girls I knew and trusted." There was a flicker of guilt in her eyes then it was gone. "It doesn't matter though, I'm over it. I just came for a drink then I'm going home." She smiled and led him to the bar.

"Where do you live now? You got a roomie?" she looked hopefully at Daxter. The red-head felt slightly sick. She was hitting on him after what she did to his home life!

Daxter mentally grimaced at the blonde's gall. He decided this would defiantly be the last time he came here ever again.

"Near the tracks, and, yeah, he's kinda like a roomy. 'Cept we share the same bed an all." Hopeful look gone.

Daxter: 6, World: 2.

"Can I get that drink?" she turned and filled a glass with strong liquor. He knocked it back and instantly knew it wasn't enough. So he ordered another, and another, and another; until he had racked up ten shots total.

That's when Tess started talking, about what, he wasn't really sure. He was, as most bar-goers said, a permanent lightweight, and soon he was starting to feel the drowsy after-effects and laid his head down for a little well-deserved nap.


	4. Racer Drama

Once again, dedicated to SunnyHomes whoes mere presence inspired the final completion of this chapter.

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The bar felt soft for some reason. He rolled over and opened his eyes. It was still dark out, as far as he could tell and there was someone sitting up in the bed next to him. He instantly wished he hadn't woken up.

"You'd better be glad Shiv and Edjie were following you." Razer said, eyes never straying from the papers in his hand.

"What, why?" his mind was too groggy to really remember what happened after his conk out at the N.O. All he could remember was seeing Tess, his emotions there, then….Jak's face scowling down at him. It wasn't an angry scowl, as Daxter remembered; it was one Daxter knew all too well as Jak's frustrated face.

"That doesn't matter. You are no longer allowed at that bar. I don't mind fucking up anyone who fucks with you, but I doubt you want your friend Jak to become a trophy on my wall." Daxter looked out the partially open window.

"That's not why you're so pissed, is it? Tell me why Shiv and' Edjie had to kick ass." Razer scowled and put the paper down on the desk next to the bed and got up. Daxter sighed "Why won't you tell me anything I wanna know? It can't be that bad." Razer walked over to the window.

Daxter sat in silence for a moment, listening to the pacing steps of his lover, before he realized Razer wasn't planning on telling him anything. "Fine! Call me if you need me, I'll be in the garage." Before he could even remove the covers, Razer pushed him back down.

"If you don't lie still, the drug will continue to work. It will wear off by morning." Daxter panicked. "Razer, what drug? What's going on?" Daxter could've sworn he heard the dark-haired man growl.

"Your little bar maid friend slipped a sleeping drug in your drinks. Apparently, she was in coalition with Jak to retrieve you and undo any and all brainwashing I had apparently been doing. They think they have the right to touch you. They think I'm brainwashing you; that I'm evil and-"Daxter wrapped his fingers around Razer's hand.

"Breathe, babe, it's not that bad. They've always thought I couldn't make my own decisions. I've already decided I want nothing to do with them." Razer was finally breathing normally again. Daxter smiled and pulled on his arm. "You've got a race to win tomorrow, get some sleep." Razer complied and in a matter of minutes, he was out.

Daxter lay awake, staring at the small sliver of moonlight creeping through, his mind in overdrive.

He had been betrayed by the very people he thought loved him for the last time.

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The sun was still on the horizon when the races were called. Razer was already in the garage, watching his team work their motors and check sabotage damages. Only one car was in need of repair and they had to wait until Daxter was there. Razer was beyond angry. And he wasn't one to let his anger settle. Even his crew knew that. It was time to get even.

Nobody touched his property.

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Daxter stared at the track. They had five minutes for last minute tune-ups, but no one on Razer's team needed any; they'd been prepared since Daxter ran the final check on all the cars. All that was left was to wait. He looked over to Razor, who had been signing papers since waking up. He stared back out at the track. He didn't like the thought of his ex-best friend and lover fighting to the death. He almost laughed at the thought as he instantly thought of what Jak had tried to pull off the night before. Daxter turned as he heard someone sigh behind him.

"It's going to be a long race, Razer. Are you sure you had enough sleep?" the dark haired man scoffed.

"What a terrible question. You know how much sleep I got, thanks to you." Daxter grinned and elbowed him.

"You would've got the same amount of sleep if I'd've been back sooner. You're gonna win no matter what anyway." Razer ignored the jab and put on a smile as a gaggle of women ran up to him, asking for autographs. He excused himself and walked along the crowd, signing autographs and shaking hands with his fans. Daxter watched the crowd. They were all cheering for the racers, though some were only cheering for their favorites and were dressed accordingly. He spotted Jak's fans. They were young, mostly young girls and guys. All the older people were rooting for the other two teams. This made the red-head smile.

He averted his gaze from the fans to the racers. It was a closed contest; meaning no big awards, no special titles, not even a bump-up in pay. There were only three teams, as well.

Razer and his teammates, Shiv and Edjie and Cutter; Four cars.

Jak and his teammates, Ashlein and Torn; Three cars.

And another competitor named Hoard and his teammates, Dem and Alfric and Tib; Four cars. Jak was clearly out-numbered and out-matched. That, Daxter knew, wouldn't stop Jak from competing, it would only make it that much more exciting a race.

There was a tap on his shoulder and he turned around to the worried face of his other ex-best friend, Keira. He could already tell what she was going to say, and wished he had one of the team here to shoo her away.

"Dax, what are you doing? You shouldn't be here, on his team; you should be with us." Daxter snorted in laughter. "And why should I be with people who've betrayed my trust and me more times than I can count?" he turned back to the track, trying to look like he was ignoring her. There was a fifty-fifty chance of her leaving.

"We're your friends. We would never betray you. How can we prove to you that he," here she pointed at the still busy Razer, "is the one you should be avoiding? He's the one you should fear; he's the one trying to kill us." Daxter clenched his fists and turned back to her.

"The only one in danger here is you, Keira. I know what you an' Jak have been doing behind my back. You thought I didn't know did you?" he practically yelled as he saw the shocked expression on her face. "I also know about the other girls. I'm not the same gullible Daxter I was back in Sandover; I'm not a pushover anymore. I won't stand for any of your annoying, bitchy speeches, especially if it's about Razer." This took her back for a second and she looked back to Jak, who had apparently been staring at them for who knows how long. He started forward, gaze never straying from Daxter.

The red head was reaching for the panic button on his comm. He was afraid of Jak, though mostly annoyed. In the two weeks he had been separated from Jak, he had learned to

stand up for himself against tall muscular men with a habit of stepping (literally) on anything smaller than them. He had no reason to fear Jak, other than he was willing to do anything to get what he wanted. Plus, deep down he still loved that man and Jak knew the right words to sway Daxter into believing anything.

Jak was a monster and a very persuasive one at that.

Jak was too close, making Daxter feel even more uncomfortable. He pushed the button. He could hear the four beeps through the throngs of cheering people and other racers, and was instantly glad Razer prided himself in protection and security for Daxter and had installed signals in the entire crew's comm.'s.

"Dax, I-"Daxter moved back the closer Jak came.

"I nothing, Jak. What the hell was last night about? Having Tess drug me so you could kidnap me? Low for the hero isn't it?" There was another beep, closer to him this time. Daxter looked over his shoulder and saw Shiv and Razer coming in closer. Jak must have noticed too, he was glaring at the two when Daxter turned back.

"Daxter you need to come back. Everyone is worried; so worried we can't even sleep. Keira, Tess and I have been-"

"I know what you three have been doing, and it ain't worrying. Just bug off Jak and-"Jak grabbed his arm and pulled him closer. Daxter heard Keira gasp behind Jak. "I'm not going back without you, Dax. We need you; I need you." The look on the blonde's face was enough to make Daxter want to reconsider his reasoning for being with Razer. Daxter took an unsteady breath of air and leaned forward. And, though it was an unconscious move, it felt wrong to make. The imploring look on Jak's face only grew.

Daxter knew his game and knew it well. When they were kids, Jak would give him the same look and Daxter would fall for almost anything. It was the same reason he had been an Ottsel for almost four years.

"It stops there, Jak." It was the smooth accent of Razer behind him that brought Daxter out of his daze. There was another hand on his arm, this time firmer and more

reassuring. "Let him go or you'll have to face me." Jak tore his gaze away from Daxter and glared at the dark haired man. Jak slowly released his arm and backed off. Razer pulled the still stunned red head back to him, glaring in a similar fashion at Jak.

Daxter watched Keira place a hand on Jak's arm and it almost made him sick.

"Why don't you just leave me alone Jak, isn't it bad enough you've slept with half the female population of Haven while you were with me?" Jak frowned.

"Dax, I would never do that to you. We've been friends-"

"We're way beyond friends, Jak. So take a hint and fuck off buddy." Daxter let Razer lead him away from the sullen blonde. As they retreated, Daxter heard the light conversation between the two.

"Don't worry, Jak; we'll find a way to break whatever Razer's done to him. We'll have him back in no time." Daxter scoffed, earning a look from Razer. The red-head had always had better hearing than most- thank you Dark Eco-and heard those words clearly.

"What is it? They're still talking about you, aren't they?" Razer hooked his arm around Daxter's waist as they walked, earning a few wolf-whistles and jeers from the crowd.

"Hey, Razer, after this race how long until the real race picks back up?" Razer frowned.

"About a week; why?" "Let's go on vacation." Razer smirked, nodding his approval. Daxter stole one last glance behind him and looked at Jak. If Daxter didn't have an obsession with holding grudges, he would have turned from Razor's hold and hugged the poor blonde. But, as Razer leant over and placed a light kiss on his temple, Daxter realized he rather like the strange obsession he had.

He was far better off now, in the arms of his personal –and portable- Jak-repellent.


	5. Down Time

Thanks to SunnyHomes for turning two paragraphs into a full chapter, and for helping me come up with ideas for the chapters to come.

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Razor knew was meant to be asleep as commanded by the younger at his side, but so was Daxter. He was sure, though, that neither of them was. It was easier, he guessed, to just lie there in the companionable silence rather than explain to the other why sleep wasn't coming easy. The experienced racer watched as the red-head scrunched his nose and wriggled closer into his side, creating a pillow out of arm that was clearly less comfortable than it looked.

Sometimes he forgot that, at one time, Daxter wasn't quite as human.

As his charge had told him before, the majority of his years have been spent upright and tail-less, but there was still a time he trotted around on four legs and scratched his ears with his toes. Even now, the characteristics still showed that he'd once been an ottsel. He still curled up just a bit too small, his nose reflexively navigated the bed in his sleep and there had been more than one occasion Razor had woken up with teeth in his arm.

That was okay, of course. He was a fine human, and one hell of a mechanic. He'd give Jak's little blue haired wrench-wench a run for her money. Razor smirked.

Maybe it was hard for Jak to realize what he had when Daxter was just an animal on his shoulder.

Looking over the young face, he flicked his finger under the long thin ear that had bent awkwardly and it sprung back. The pair giving a small unconscious bounce and relaxing back to the sides of his head. How could you not care for such a man?

He admired the other for a moment longer and, deciding Daxter wasn't going to wake, Razor hunkered down and sleep came just a bit easier.

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Daxter felt the dark haired man relax at his side and sink away into the sheets. He cracked open one eye to stare at the still-rising sun through the half-open curtains.

There was something terrible about mornings in Daxter's opinion. If it were up to him, morning wouldn't start until around 11, and any hour before would be considered ungodly and very illegal. Still, there was one good thing about waking up at the ass-crack of dawn; he had plenty of time to snuggle up to the portable heater that was Razor, and think.

Sure, the races had gone well, surprisingly, with Jak and his Razor finishing neck-and-neck after destroying the other team. But Daxter had watched from the side-lines, nerves racked and nails nearly bitten to the nub as Edjie and Cutter's cars had been totalled during the third lap. Both left with near-fatal wounds and trashed cars that Daxter was eager to get his wrench to. Many times during the race, Daxter had to fight the instinct to cover his eyes and ears each time Razer's car had been shot, bombed, or sometimes even run off the course.

Luckily, the cars were the only fatalities-which was a rarity on all parts. Even the other team, who had survived with only a couple broken bones and the slightest tethers of their pride left intact, felt it was appropriate to celebrate their survival- though Daxter found himself doubting if the individuals driving would be repeating their combat against Jak and Razor.

The red-head sat up and patted the older man's chest to make sure he was asleep. He played with one of the seams in Razors red silk pyjamas for a second, before rolling out of bed, too busy with his thoughts to bother going back to sleep, and walked into their apartment's living room. Thoughts of the race lead him back to the current reason of his stress.

Why wouldn't Jak just leave him alone? Daxter's life had been going well during the two – nearly three – Jak-less weeks and he had thought maybe, just maybe, his life would stay normal. But the precursors had it in for him, those damn furry rats. Daxter paused and furrowed his brow, pushing his bottom lip forward with a 'huph'.

Great, now he was blaming a trio of Ottsels that weren't even on this planet anymore.

He sifted through the couch cushions in search of the remote. And, after finding a couple dollars, a candy wrapper –and, with a mix of revulsion and dismay, the squished candy that went with it- and a couple pens, he finally located the illusive remote.

Daxter turned on the television, groaning as none other than Blitz himself popped up along with his annoying co-host, Pecker- the pea-brained loud-mouth that had self-love complex and an accent that would make one's ears bleed if you even tried to listen.

During Daxter's final years of ottsel-dom, him and Pecker had gotten into more than 'heated arguments'- arguments that usually lead to 'heated brawls' and then the ever popular 'time-outs'. Now, thankfully, the terrible-talker gave him a pretty wide berth.

_"That's right G-baby!" _Pecker squawked, waving his wing dramatically into the lens,_ "we have confirmed that one Daxter has left Krew's team and is now riding with Razor!"_ An image scrolled across, buzzing with static and shifting in and out of focus. It was Jak and Keira, facing off against Daxter who, if you looked close enough looked as though he may be about to cry.

He strained his ears, but the ape-faced commentary was too loud to hear what they were saying.

_"Do you imagine Jak's team with suffer greatly for their lost team member?"_

Daxter didn't wait for the response over the sickening feeling, as if someone had just punched him in the throat. Daxter watched in a slight state of shock as Jak grabbed his arm –making him unconsciously rub the still slightly sore limb as he watched the scene unfold- and pull him close.

He hadn't realized until now, how close his and Jak's faces had been. Only an inch or so closer and-

With a surge of complete fury and disgust, he drove his fist into a pillow and angrily slammed the inanimate object onto his lap, wrapping himself around it as if it were the last thing holding him to the earth.

_"I've said it once, and I'll say it again Blitz Man. Jak is a three time hero and I'd be surprised if anyone believes his team will ache over this betrayal. However, I know Razer's crew sure have found a diamond in the rough with this one. It surely has been their lucky break!"_

Yep, that settles it. Mornings are bad news unless spent by the side of one certain brunette.

To his relief, the other racer made his way onto the screen, glaring at his competition, and pulled the red-head in to the safety of his arms.

"Ouch! That looked like it hurt more than his pride!" Daxter turned the TV off and threw stowed the remote back under the cushions as the camera zoomed in on Jak's mournful face.

He rubbed his bare forearm and sighed, suddenly feeling the urge to shower.

Daxter jumped as something heavy and warm sat on top of his head, but calmed as he heard Razer's thoughtful hum.

"Thought you would sleep longer than that." The dark-haired man said with a yawn. Daxter smiled and reached up, running a hand through the darker man's hair. Razer moved his hands from their resting place under his chin on Daxter's head to the red-head's shoulders, giving them a light squeeze.

Daxter smiled and laid his head on the back of the couch to kiss Razer's chin. "You should be the one sleepin' Raze." In a rare display of affection, Razer trailed light kisses from Daxter's forehead to his chin. Daxter smiled and closed his eyes, revelling in the feeling of being loved.

Razer always seemed to know how to guess his feelings, and make him feel better in no time with just a simple gesture.

But, as all good things usually do, it came to an end and Razer moved to the front of the couch to sit next to Daxter, lit a cigarette and pulled the shorter man closer.

"How about that holiday?" he said after a few moments of silence. Daxter smirked and snuggled further into Razer's warmth.

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A/N: I hope you like it! Next chapter will be up soon.


	6. Jak's Chapter

Once again, thanks to SunnyHomes for taking time out of her ridiculously fun schedule to make this story come to fruition. She's way better at flash-backs than I am :3

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Jak looked up at the ceiling above his bunk in the garage, lost in thought. Sure, his life was easier without Daxter –now that he didn't have to spend hours on end worrying about his safety, or spending days tracking down his location after another kidnapping -but it was anything but normal. And it made him slightly angry. The sudden change in mood brought him back to the last time he'd truly felt this way.

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He was in a foul mood and it was obvious as his uncle, sitting in front of him, poked and, during many tries, accidentally pinched him with tweezers. And, not only was his ninth birthday ruined, but now he felt like a walking pin cushion. He hissed as an abnormally large stinger was pulled out by shaky hands.

Something had told him not to go near the humming blob of mud that he and Daxter had found while wandering through the jungle. It wasn't really a feeling. It was more like an angry, dark voice that he'd heard before, but couldn't place. Within moments of Jak prodding the mound and Daxter tossing the biggest stone he could carry at it, they realized what they had found. All their child-like invincibility had been squashed as thousands of angry wumpbees swarmed around them. Daxter stumbled back, letting out a short cry as he fell into the water and was swiftly carried off. Jak had tried to help, but was chased all the way to the edge of the jungle by the swarm.

Uncle tapped his knee, wiping the last stinger from the tweezers with his pant leg. Jak watched the two-inch long barb slip into a crack on his floor. "Are you alright, dear boy?"

Jak shook his head; he wasn't even the slightest bit alright. Sure, it hurt, but what hurt worse was the fact Daxter hadn't come back to take any sort of responsibility to what happened. Granted, the whole ordeal was Jak's idea, but he refused to take full responsibility for it -Especially after both Samos and his uncle had lectured him on the dangers of playing around in the Forbidden Jungle.

Jak felt he'd aged considerably since they'd started, so after Samos left him with a bowl full of green eco and left with his uncle –and after another lecture on the dangers of going where he wasn't supposed to go- he flopped back on to his bed. He let out another hiss as his shoulder hit the mattress, bringing to light the location of a missed sting. By the fourth attempt to reach it, Jak was livid. He jumped up, kicking random objects on his floor in a silent min-tantrum. Then, with an exhausted sigh, he fell face-down onto his bed and shoved his face into his pillow.

"Jak…Hey, Jak," Daxter whispered from somewhere near his window. Jak didn't move. "Look, 'm sorry, okay? I got'em though." Jak sat up slowly, giving the soaked and shivering Daxter a glare. The glare, however, dissolved as he took in Daxter's appearance.

Red hair plastered to his face from his time in the rain, face and hands bright pink from the cold, and covered in red welts –not as many as Jak had, but still enough to be irritating.

"I got 'em because they hurt ya, Jak. And nobody hurts my best friend and lives to brag about it." The red-headed boy lightly rested a tender arm over his friend's swollen shoulders. "Now gimme those tweezers, coz these are getting real itchy."

After –quite painfully- yanking out the last stinger in Jak's shoulder, Daxter got to work on his own painful looking stings, all the while regaling Jak his heroic battle against the swarm of wumpbees –that had somehow grown into unnatural, giant beasts. Not to mention their numbers had grown from only about one thousand to a number closer to ten thousand. During his wondrous tale, Daxter kept glancing up at Jak, as if silently making sure Jak was smiling at the monster-like creatures he'd made the small insects become, or the flamboyant, over-the-top way he told the story. Jak smiled throughout the whole thing, knowing it was just Daxter trying to cheer him up.

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Without Daxter, his life was dull. It was the jokes and sleazy faux-pickup lines that made everyone, even Jak, laugh. There was a knock at his door, knocking the image of a laughing Daxter out of his head.

"Come in," He shouted lightly, trying his best to hide the under-tone of despondency in his voice. Keira opened the door slowly, as if fearing her entrance would somehow bring about Dark Jak's rage. Jak inwardly rolled his eyes. No matter how many times he told them he wasn't angry, or that he had control of his darker alter-ego, they still feared him to some measure. This alone always made Jak remember how Daxter never feared Dark Jak.

Well…before _that_ night.

"Hey, Jak. We were just wondering if you were going to come down to eat." Jak sat up. He wasn't really hungry –but then again, he never was. It came from being a prisoner and only getting a meal every other day for two years- but trusted that Keira knew when he needed to eat. Keira sighed, knowing Jak's inner turmoil, and walked over to him. "Alright, out with it Jak. What's on your mind?" Jak looked up to Keira, sighing as he put his head in his hands.

"Daxter, he…he hates me. I know I did wrong by him by, well, you know." Keira looked at her feet with a blush and nodded. "I don't know how he found out. Shit. Just saying that makes me feel worse." He got up and kicked a wrench across the room. Why had he been so stupid? The legends that portrayed him as _Mar,_ _greatest hero to ever live_ never mentioned it would go to his head and create a side of him that made him hurt those he loved.

Keira's hand on his shoulder effectively stopped his unconscious pacing. He turned to face her, but the look on her face suggested he'd gotten angrier than he thought.

"Sorry. I'm sorry, Keira. I just don't know how I allowed myself to become so blind to what I was doing." Keira just smiled and led him towards the door to the kitchen.

"Don't beat yourself up over this, Jak. Daxter will come to his senses and see that you never meant to hurt him. It's just like when we were kids and you two fought. Only…this time it'll take a little longer because of Razer." Jak nodded and let Keira set him at the table with the other members of his team.

Torn didn't even look up from his meal as Jak sat down beside him. Ashelin cleared her throat after a moment of silence.

"Jak, Sig's coming to visit for a couple days. Apparently Samos thought it would be a good idea for you to go out hunting artifacts with him to pass time between races." Jak put down his fork and stared at his meal with a look that would have rotted fruit and soured milk.

"Jak, daddy means well, you know he does. He just wants you to take your mind off Daxter for a while and concentrate on staying alive." Jak frowned as Keira placed her hand on his shoulder.

"I wouldn't be any good out on the field. If I can't even win against Razer, what makes them think I can out-run bandits in the desert? What makes him think I even _want_ to go?" As his tone grew, both Ashelin and Torn jumped out of their seats, pointing their guns at Jak's slightly glowing form.

Anxious seconds passed before Jak turned and trudged back into the garage, slamming and locking the door behind him. The tension seemed to end everyone's appetite, as Torn threw his plate –meal only half-eaten- onto the counter. He didn't spare a second glance as the porcelain let out a loud crack and most of the food he'd left was splattered onto the counter.

"I say we lock him up until the races start." Torn said angrily, kicking the door to the garage as he passed it. Ashelin rolled her eyes.

"I'm going to bed. You should do the same, Keira; it's going to be a long week." She placed her dish in the sink and disappeared up the stairs.

Keira stood staring at the door Jak had just gone through, more than worried for her friend's safety and well-being, and then followed the red-headed woman upstairs for a –hopefully- dreamless slumber.


	7. Shopping and Confrontations

Sorry for the wait everyone! Between computer problems and writers block -which was cured thanks to SunnyHomes once again- it's lucky I was even able to get any of this chapter or the next on done. I hope you like it! Oh, and reviews feed the Australian squirrel overlord I keep in my basement.

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The young man's hair was sparkling flame red and copper in the early light, sifted through blue garage windows. A shadow fissured over the ground by his insistent head bobbing. A singing drone filled Razer's ears, the same hum that he'd come to know meant Daxter was occupied all but his lips. Which was half true, he found out as he approached the teen under Shiv's vehicle – Daxter had a wrench in his teeth and a screwdriver in each hand, one foot was kicked up onto the car's diff for comfort.

Razer alerted his presence with a loud yawn which should have been good enough, if not for the insistent humming. He mumbled and kicked the conveniently placed orange boot.

"Oh, good morning, sunshine!" Daxter grinned, placing his chin to his chest and dragging himself by his heel on his creeper.

Razor bent to place his palms on Daxter's stomach and leaned gracefully over as they slid back under the car, twisting up to look into the engine's bits and pieces. The younger couldn't help but instinctively place a hand on his apprehender's waist, mind elsewhere as a full engine inspection ensued from the man above. "I don't know how you continue to impress me, Daxter."

"Lucky for you, flattery is one of my accepted currencies." Daxter studied his palm quickly, realizing he'd just smudged grease down Razer's good red coat. His teeth clenched on the wrench, thankful as it went unnoticed. "There's breakfast on the table."

"Mm, I'm not so hungry." His bottom lip pushed his top one up in thought as they wheeled back out. Razer wiggled his hands in Dax's full belly and smiled. "But I see you've helped yourself."

"Hey!" He squawked, "I cook it, I get first helping. Nothin' wrong with enjoying the little things in life."

"You obviously didn't get the _little_ memo. You ate it all, there was none left for me."

Daxter actually did leave heaps; he grimaced out the door as if it had cursed his very existence, "Bloody Shiv."

"Though I am glad to see you're eager to begin our vacation; Even though you refuse to even waste a second when you could be working." Razor looked over the youths streaked and blotted face, black and brown from grease, dirt and other workshop grime. The mechanics leather gear was just as bad, if not worse. He couldn't remember the last time they'd gone shopping for clothes. In fact, Razer recalled the only apparel the young man had were what he'd moved in his hurry. This, by the way, wouldn't merit a single complaint because the youth spent every washing-morning in nothing but a towel or underpants, and sometimes forgot to be discreet around the house.

Daxter raised an inquisitive eyebrow at the look. "Wha-? I got somethin' on my face?" He wiped at his cheeks, making the splatter of inky liquid across his nose spread further.

"Are you joining the Krimson Guard now?"

"Ey?" Daxter pulled the wrench from his mouth, proceeding to wipe his face on the inside of his shirt. Receiving a nod okay, he offered his black stained lips to the man for a kiss.

Razer laughed and shook his head, "What will I ever do with you?" He watched the teen's eyebrow slant up and placed his lips down, certain he could taste the bitter engine fluid. It took Daxter far too long for his brain to catch up with his lips and Razer winked as his boyfriend began splitting and pulling faces, now noticing the tang of grease. "Not to worry," he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, "we need to do a bit of shopping."

Daxter watched the other man walk to the door, "for what?"

"Clothes for you; unless you like looking like a gutter-snipe."

Sure, his hems were frayed and the knees were nearly rubbed through from digging for tools in the other crew's heavy toolboxes, but they still worked. Why get something fancy if they were just going to become ruined? One elevator glance to Razer and his brain sighed; everything about that man was fancy. He looked back up with a shrug, surrendering at the knowledge that arguing would be pointless.

"And I need a new coat." Razer lifted an eyebrow, gesturing a knowing glance at his waist where a Daxter-perfect handprint had tarnished the red. The bright youth felt his cheeks burn and he rubbed the back of his neck, ready to apologize his way into the good books again before rolling off his creeper and following the dark haired man out the door.

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Daxter felt ridiculous. There wasn't even a word to describe how ridiculous he felt or how scared he was to touch anything for fear of getting his new clothes dirty. He'd already ruined one of Razer's jackets today, lucky the Kras City Plaza had one newer reproduction in stock. And after seeing the price tag post-custom tailoring, he refused to even look at the thing for fear it would unwind at a glance. He ran his thumbs under his own red leather jacket lapels, quite similar to Razer's cashmere one, but short and shiny and apparently brought when he was a bit younger. It felt nice to be in such good clothes, but he couldn't wait to get into stocking-feet and undies again. This was _special occasion only_ deal and Dax really hoped Razer knew that.

"You look handsome, stop being so timid." Razer squeezed his hand as he sat at a small café in the Bazar. They'd made their way over to Haven after their previous stop at Kras Hems Tailoring, just to buy some new gear for Daxter – work and holiday clothes and ,after an hour of further miscellaneous shopping and a short stop to fill the Havoc V12 with their acquisitions, were finally settling for lunch.

Daxter wiggled his hips, trying to find the most comfortable way to fit into these black denims as his boyfriend sat to inspect the menus. "I hardly fit your clothes, they're all… all…" His sentence ended with a loud groan.

Razer lifted an eyebrow over the sheet menu, "all what?"

"Classy and sophisticated," He slumped his chin in his hand, "we both know that's so not my usual M.O."

If Razer was paying attention, Daxter would have slapped him, or gave him one of his famous end-all looks. But he wasn't. He was staring at his communicator that had flashed, demanding desperate attention.

"Raze, we're about to have lunch. Can't you put that away just for a sec?"

A few second passed and his dark haired partner slid from his chair, rubbing his wrist anxiously. "Just got an important message. Meetings, hm." His jaw hung for a minute, words framed in his eyes.

"I'll bring you some food. Don't worry about it." Daxter was used to being left, and for far worse reasons then a meeting -Hopefully a meeting, his brain added quite unhelpfully_. Trust issues, where did they come from? Oh, oh yeah…_

"It's not that," Razer pulled a handgun from his internal pocket by his chest, checked it for loaded red-eco charges, he confirmed it was working and slid it over the table. Daxter trapped in under his hand. "Just in case, promise you'll use it and call someone with your distress button. Just stay safe, or I assure you, heads will roll."

Daxter opened his own coat to reveal,_ surprise_, a gun shaped pocket. He frowned, suspiciously packing the weapon into it. "I might go and get myself a holster, I feel dumb with this."

"Then take this. And comm. me when you get home, okay? I'm not playing any games here." His thick wallet was slapped down too, and, after a quick kiss, disappeared through the crowd. Daxter heard the roar of the Havoc's engines and smiled with pride as a couple people around him whistled or cheered as the racer drove off.

Daxter kicked his new orange boots up onto the free chair and waited for his food. It'd been a while since he was treated this well, being spoiled every once in a million years was fine – particularly since Seem and the monk boys stopped worshipping him after his transformation back from ottsel-dom.

Not to mention the only spoiling he received with Jak was a movie, a quickie and a kiss-goodbye. Daxter shuffled uncomfortably at the name, knowing –but slightly still hoping- this was the last place he'd see him – it strangely still made his skin crawl. Just the thought at any second those violet-black claws could run across the back of his neck. And that man was sneaky; Dax doubted if he'd ever even hear him, see him, even notice his existence until it was too late, even with his still-ottsel-like senses.

"You got a baby leaper in ya jocks, chili pepper?" A familiarly deep voice spoke behind him a, making Daxter's hand twitch towards his hidden pocket for the gun before he realized it was just Sig in his racing gear. Sig slapped a brown paper bag onto the table and Daxter moved his legs so the behemoth of a man could sit

"Oh, hey Sig, long time no see. How's the overgrown sandbox?" Sig chuckled in his usual booming way.

"Still sandy; but what are you doing here, kiddo? I thought you would be off fixing cars or chillin' with the other part of your demolition duo." Daxter felt his heart drop. He cleared his throat, trying not to show any sort of nervousness or irritation.

"I'm Just…waiting for my lunch, actually." Sig raised an eyebrow, clearly not missing the hidden nervous undertone.

"Hey Sig, finally. You know you're a hard man to fi-" Jak's relaxed stance suddenly tensed and Sig turned; he was never really one to be tensed by confrontation. Only now, he was completely overwhelmed by the overwrought atmosphere. Jak took his hand from the chair and reconsidered sitting, instead crooked his shoulder away and broke their eye contact. "Sorry, uh, you're a hard man to find."

"I told you where I was goin', blondie. Are you ready to go?" He said, leaning back from his lunch with a warm smile. Daxter smiled up at the waitress as she brought him a cup of juice and told him is food would be out in a moment.

"Uh, Samos wanted me to head to Spargus as soon as possible. He says there's a large group of bandits headed towards the city and you were supposed to meet me there."

He waved a big hand, "I figured I'd use this opportunity to see my favorite Demolition Duo before I split them up. I left everything for to Kleiver handle. I'm sure he is enjoying himself."

Jak placed his hand back to the chair, "You left _my father's_ city under the care of _that_ idiot?"

"_That idiot_ is one hell of a Wastelander." His eyebrows creased around his optic, "and yes, it will be fine. Relax."

Daxter rolled his eyes and Sig seemed to catch onto it, out of all things; giving him a frown as he slurped up the last of his drink. "What's up with you love birds?"

Daxter choked the juice and felt his nose burn, unable to say anything; the explanation was unfortunately left to Jak. "No such thing, Sig."

Sig squinted for a moment and then recoiled, "oh. Oh shit, sorry guys. I'm missing something here, aren't I?"

Jak shrugged as Dax finally recovered, "nothing much."

"Nothing much!?" Daxter slammed the cup down, "Mr. Tall-dark and eco-freak here tried to kill me."

"Well, you know what? Maybe if you weren't so annoying- man, even the sound of your voice..." Jak trailed off.

Daxter felt and saw the beginning of his cheeks turning that alarming shade of pink. "Get over yourself Jak. Sometimes I wish you hadn't saved the world, then you wouldn't be such a pompous dick all the time. Or maybe I shouldn't have saved you from that prison in the first damn place. Then I wouldn't have had to look after you for so long, like a big fucking kid!"

"You're one to talk about pompous! Look who you're dating? King Haughty himself. Pretty much invented the word."

"Leave him out of this. You think you're all mature and top dog but then as soon as something doesn't go your way, you're such a five year old."

"Cut it out guys." Sig stood up, he got that he made a mistake, but really. People were staring.

"No!" Jak – in an overwhelming rush of adrenalin – pushed Sig back to his chair and stomped over to Daxter, chest almost meeting his ex's nose. "You're the one who always bitched about the dumbest things, you're the one who always got off on taking everyone's praise and you wonder why I got pushed away. You're just pissed because for once in your insignificant life, the story isn't all about you."

"Fuck you!" Daxter stood up from his chair, it being sent flying backwards, though the redhead didn't make it half way up before a set of knuckles struck his cheek.

"Hey!" Sig was over it, now it had gone too far, and soon he was sure they'd have a monster on their hands.

Daxter recoiled and glared. His fists turning white and red, blood throbbing in his cheek. Not this time buddy, _not this time_.


	8. S and C part II

Just a late thank you to the first two followers this story obtained. So Thank You emilyrosemary98 and EvErYtHiNgDePeNdS! And of course, thank you Sunnyhomes, you Aussie devil you XP For all of you who don't know, Sunnyhomes IS a writer here, so you'd better go and check out her stories, Sandover Foundations and A Gentle Hero.

Disclaimers aren't really needed. You guys know I don't own this stuff, only the plot and the weirdness\fluff that ensues throughout. Read and enjoy!

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It had started with an eerie stillness, Daxter went to leave -which technically was the right thing to do, Sig assumed, until the man turned and shouted from the door a list of expletives including hasty remarks on Jak's mother. All three men stopped momentarily. Daxter turned again to continue through the door. Sig watched from the edge of the room. And Jak, moving very slowly in the corner of the wastelander's eye, had decidedly had enough of Dax for one day.

The two ex-friends had never before got into such a row where they came to actual fist-fighting, but, as Sig and the rest of the Bazar –and really anyone who could hear the uproar- soon found that it was one magnificent sight to behold.

Jak had swung again, as if the first time wasn't enough. An attack fuelled by madness and resentment, solidly landed on the mechanic's cheek bone. He was over it. And Daxter, recovering from the initial shock and pulling his face back around, was clearly not in the mood to take anything either. Then as quick as the two men had made eye contact, a spark lit up the tense quietness that followed.

And all hell broke loose in the street.

A combination of strong hefty blows from Jak and short shattering jabs from Daxter. It was a tangle of arms and fists becoming even more driven before they started drawing blood.

There was a pause as Jak wiped his nose over his wrist. As soon as the blonde's blue eyes rested on the crimson liquid up his arm, ink spilled into their depths. Black needles sliding through his fingertips.

Jak towered over him and for a moment, Daxter was frightened again. Even with all the people around. Even with Sig around. Because the burly man was unable to get through the scattering crowd and Daxter was left on his own, once again, against a monster bent on his demise. But this time, there was something there, something just a bit scarier in his eyes. It was still Jak; before, it was a monster, his alter-ego. This time, Jak wasn't holding back and he wanted to hurt something. Anything. Preferably Daxter.

Clawed fingers wrapped around the red head's arm and threw him bodily onto the ground. Daxter heard the distinctive crack and scrape of a now-useless communicator, but that was the least of his worries as Jak leaped onto the his chest, receiving an uppercut to the throat from the near-petrified Daxter. Jak rolled over, gagging; his needle-like claws clipped the side of Daxter's forearm, leaving a large gash. He snarled, ignoring the painful yelp Daxter let out, dark eco crackling in fists.

He was quick to his feet and, gripping his throat with one hand and his other curled around a luminous sphere of eco.

Daxter was well aware of the presence of the gun the entire time. Only now did he decide there was no other option but to use it.

Jak's eyes widened at the weapon and closed to slits, fangs pinching his bottom lip in a snarl. "Do it! Make your point."

The redhead remembered what Razer had said. What really mattered anymore? Who - who really mattered? Could he really hurt this man who he had been so close to for so long? A suddenly cold finger tensed the trigger. Daxter could hear the blood in his ears and feel ice under his skin.

Hurt, yes. Kill, no. But Razer said-?

No.

Daxter flicked the barrel to the side. A blast, just one, and it tore through Jak's left leg, the slight recoil jarring his bleeding arm and making Daxter flinch. Burning hot and strong like fire, pain flourished through Jak's body and the man fell to his knees, left leg crumpled awkwardly. A scream tore itself from his throat, only muffled by the white incisors that had clamped down in agony. He removed his hands for a second; the result was gruesome, crimson liquid surging from a neat hole in his blue jeans.

Slowly, the darkness evacuated Jak's eyes, only now it was worse. A lot worse. Because now they stared blue and painful into Daxter. Painful not because he'd torn a hole through his leg - it was nothing Samos couldn't fix with a handful of green eco- painful because they were surrendering, giving up; crying -but not quite.

He gripped the shattered comm. from his belt and flung it to Jak with a painful laugh. "It's just like you, broken and useless." As soon as he let the words out, he felt an odd ache in his chest. It was the worst thing he had ever said to anyone or anything. But it was the first time he'd ever felt he had told the honest truth to Jak.

And all he did was shake his head, and walk away.

From Sig. From Jak.

Away from his past. Only now -as Sig reached Jak's side and Daxter turned, wiping his bloody nose on his sleeve – he was completely okay with that. Deep down, Daxter knew this could only end badly, knew it would only make everything worse on the racers on the track, but damn if it didn't feel good.

It was a long and slow walk back to the garage, Daxter knew, but he didn't have the strength to call anyone on the team for help. His head was blank, as if the fight had taken everything out of him. Either that or he'd just lost a bit too much blood.

He was only a couple streets away from the garage when the dizziness finally stopped him. He looked to his arm, which was wonderfully painted red. That one look was all it took to make it finally click with his brain that he was bleeding heavily enough to cause either serious damage with a few days in the hospital or death. As if the universe was saying sorry for putting him though so much shit, as he was about to pass out he heard the roar of a familiar engine.

Shiv's Boomer came skidding around the corner of the next street, slightly scaring Daxter for a moment, but stopped short about a foot from Daxter. The red head smiled and dizzily thought about asking how Shiv had found him. Before he could, however, he met with sudden resistance in the form of his head hitting the road beneath him.

_This is all Jak's fault, _Daxter thought absently as Shiv rushed him into his car, _and boy am I going to tell Samos how mean he's being. I hope that idiot has to clean ol' Log-head's hut for a month straight._


	9. So much for vacations

Sorry for the delay! Lots o'stuff been going on, but I promise this story will continue to the end!

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"I'm never leaving you alone ever again!" Razer shouted, making Daxter roll his eyes and watch the elder man pace back and forth. He hissed as the needle went into his arm again, slowly sewing up the gash Jak had left.

"Raze, it was-" Razer turned with a glare. Daxter cut himself off and heaved a great sigh, looking at his brand new –and newly stained- pants. "I had it handled, Razer. He won't mess with me anymore, not after all that." Daxter frowned, trying to think back on what it was he HAD said before the medic beside him decide to let loose one of his more painful tugs.

"He shouldn't have messed with you in the first place! You shouldn't have spoken with him! Why didn't you call someone? He could have killed you." The dark haired man nearly screamed, reaching in his coat pocket for a cigarette to calm his nerves.

"In case you hadn't noticed –ow, doc, can ya go a little easier or what- the communicator-sized welt on my hip, but Jak broke it when he fuckin' slammed me on the ground. I couldn't call anyone if I wanted to!" Razer stopped mid-light.

"What do you mean _if I wanted to_?" Daxter flinched; wrong thing to say to an irate Razer.

"It's just a figure of speech, Raze. You know if my comm. was still workin' I would've called for help." The medic –who had patiently tried his best to ignore the lover's tiff- tied the ends of his stitching and got up, shuffling quietly through his bag until he found a bottle of pain pills.

"Take when needed, and don't mix with alcohol." Daxter grinned up at the man and accepted the pills thankfully, then watched as he gloomily walked out of the room. Suddenly, Daxter was hoisted out of his seat and thrown against the wall beside Razer's oh-so-precious trophy case, Razer's palms planted firmly on either side of Daxter's head.

"What the actual fuck, Razer? Isn't it bad enough I've already had the shit beat out of me today? You do realize-?" Daxter stopped mid-rant at the look on Razer's face.

His facial features were scrunched up in the tell-tale sign of a mixture of anger and sadness. It was a look that Jak often wore. Maybe that's why it hurt so much to see. Unabashed silence followed, filling the small living room with thick tension, making his already aching head throb and his ears ring.

"Razer?" Daxter unconsciously whispered. Razer didn't avert his gaze from his young lover's face and the red head could only watch the steady back-and-forth twitch of the elder man's eyes, seemingly searching for something in Daxter's eyes. Neither one had been this close to each other without it forming into sexual activities, but even then it had never lasted this long.

"Daxter…you know I will kill anyone who hurts you." Daxter nodded slowly, worried about the outcome of this conversation. "You are more important to me than any of these stupid races, any of these trophies, any of the titles that have been handed to me. I know I don't show you affection, it seems, unless something like this happens; but I…you know that I…" Razer stopped, searching Daxter's face for any kind of understanding before backing down with a sigh and turning to sit on the couch. He stared at the smoke drifting up from the forgotten cigarette that had become nearly all ash.

Daxter felt like all the air in his lungs had been forced out, his mind going back to his argument with Jak barely three weeks ago.

_Javelin is way more important than anything because it will help us win, help us survive. And if you can't handle that then….then you should…._

He swallowed thickly, awkwardly missing his lover's gaze. He moved to sit beside Razer with a slight air of discomfort.

"D'you…d'you mean that?" Razer closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands.

"Every god damned word, Daxter." For the first time in his short existence, Daxter felt truly lost. Razer turned from his palms to stare at Daxter again, only this time the look was more relaxed. He shifted over so he was facing the blushing red head.

Daxter's face had started to burn. Jak had never –during their almost three-year relationship- given him that look or spoke with such sincerity that Daxter actually felt he was loved. Even with Razer –who was more affectionate with Daxter in one day than Jak had ever been- the red head wasn't prepared for the copious amount of romance the racer seemed to delight in giving him on those wonderful, rare occasions, even if they were in public.

"Razer, I know you…don't really like mushy, touchy-feely stuff like this, but-" Just then, a high-pitched beeping started from the bedroom, making both him and Razer jump from the sudden noise. Razer looked to Daxter again. "Go get it, it's probably important." Daxter said, digging through the cushions for the remote to occupy himself.

After a moment of annoyance as G.T Blitz –once again- graced his poor television, Razer reappeared from the bedroom, with a look of pure annoyance.

"I have to go to another meeting. Apparently my assistant took my absence to mean she could do anything she wanted and has scheduled me for two meetings a day until the races start." Daxter chuckled, earning a withered look from Razer, displaying his no-so secret hate of meetings.

"At least you'll have somethin' else to worry about." The red head replied, the tension from their earlier discussion nearly gone. Razer sighed and started to the door.

"Of course. By the way, I am having Edjie watch over you. He will give you a new comm. from supply, but that doesn't mean you're off the hook. You have to work off this new comm., whether you like it or not." Daxter held up his hands in surrender.

"Don't open the door to strangers and sit here like a good little crocodog, got it. Go have fun at the meeting and don't worry 'bout poor little ol'Daxxie." The racer rolled his eyes and, after lighting a new cigarette and a quick goodbye, set off out the door. Daxter curled up around the nearest pillow and closed his eyes, the grating sound of Pecker's voice drowned out by his own thoughts.

So much for their vacation….


	10. Crankshaft Bearings

Hallo everyone and welcome to the latest installment of After Friendship. I just wanna take the time and thank the website " " for showing me more about engines than my mechanic uncle. You have no idea how hard it was to understand, but I got it...kinda.

Of course, the special thanks to everyone who has favorited, followed -I won't say reviewed because my reviewer already knows I love her ;P- or anyone who has taken time out of their busy schedual to read. You could've chosen another, but you didn't and I love you all for it.

READ AND ENJOY...and review, cause reviews make longer chapters.

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Daxter stared at Edjie's car in anger. The stupid crankshaft bearing was busted and he had no replacements. And, it's not like he could ask Razer to go to his buddy near the edge of the city to get him parts. The dark-haired man was at yet another interview –which Daxter was sure was really just another excuse for Mizo to inflate his ego over his best racer- and wouldn't be back until much later.

Daxter looked down at the now scrap-metal and sighed. Now he was going to have to go through the whole engine to make sure nothing else was worn out or broken, there was just no end to the work when even _one_ part went bad. And, to make matters worse, there was only one garage assuredly open at this time of night, even on the night before the races.

The red-head donned his customary racing jacket and gloves –it had been threatening to rain for almost two days- and, after locking the garage behind him, set off in the rain towards his unfortunate destination.

By the time he'd reached Sandover garage, his legs were hurting and his lungs felt iced-over from the bitter chill that had crept up almost without warning.

He paused outside the doors, arm raised in apprehension of what he was about to do. He lowered his arm and sighed. He needed a new bearing a day before the race. There was no way to order one and have it delivered within a week -much less in the 17 hours he needed it- and there was no way to improvise anything.

With new-found reasoning, Daxter rapped lightly on the door, silently hoping no one was going to answer. Unfortunately, the door creaked open and a slightly peeved-looking Torn glared down at him.

"Can I help you? Or are you here to secretly sabotage something?" Daxter frowned.

"I just came to ask if your mechanic had a spare crankshaft bearing or two. I would've gone to a different garage, but no one else is open and the race is tomorrow. But I see you're not going to help, so I'll wait until last minute tune ups tomorrow and ask someone else." Daxter turned to leave, but was stopped by Torn's sigh.

"Keira's in the back; you can ask her if she's got a spare or two, just don't let Jak see you. We've already had too many close calls this week." Torn led Daxter into the main living area, then left him with an excuse of over-due paperwork. Daxter suddenly felt nervous not knowing where Jak could be. He took a deep breath and walked to the garage.

He spotted Keira's legs poking out from under Javelin, completely unaware she wasn't alone anymore. Daxter took the opportunity to look around the once-familiar room. Boomer, Firebat, Dragonfly, and the Hammer Head looked beyond repair and would probably never be able to run again. He could only guess the other cars by the shape of their respectively-colored covers. The Havoc V12 was easy to spot from its position in the back of the room. It was the same type of car Razer had, though it was never used by Krew's team for obvious reasons.

"Oh! Hey, Daxter." There was a slight nervous waver to her voice. From the look on her face, she'd not yet forgotten their discourse during the trial race. Daxter didn't blame her when she backed away an inch or so. "Uhm, does the crew know you're here?"

"Yeah, Torn let me in. I just came by to see if you had an extra bearing for a crankshaft. I would've asked a different team, but no one else's garage is open and it's too late to order one." Keira smiled, making Daxter feel a bit more uncomfortable.

"I just ordered a couple for spares. I can give you three, is that okay?" Daxter nodded. "Okay, um, I think I have them in the back, gimme a second." She took a few steps, then turned back as if she wanted to say something, but couldn't.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to steal or sabotage anything." Daxter said, holding up his hands innocently.

"That's not what I was thinking. It's just-it's nice to see you, Dax. You look good." He didn't respond, though his comfort levels were dropping. He silently thanked the precursors –where ever they were- when she turned and walked through a door in the back of the garage.

Daxter stood in relative silence, trying to think of anywhere he'd rather be than here asking for parts. He jumped as the door behind him opened.

"Don't worry, Torn, I'll be outta here in a sec." He turned around, only to find Jak standing in the door-way. "Oh. It's you. I'll be gone in a second; I'm waiting for Keira to get me something." Daxter turned back to the door Keira had disappeared into. Daxter felt his hands sweat as the memories of their brawl crept back into his mind. He still had a couple bruises and a still-healing gash on his arm. He looked out of the corner of his eye to see Jak still staring at him with a strange look.

There was a crash from the back room, making Daxter jump back to the door. He was slightly worried until Keira called out she was fine. That's when the creepy feeling came back. Daxter knew, without even having to turn, that Jak was once again staring at him.

"Just so you know, Jak, if you don't stop staring at me I will be forced to do what I did in the bazar." To prove his point, Daxter ran a finger along his gun's handle –and unconsciously, his new communicator-, but thankfully Keira chose that moment to make her re-appearance into the garage, holding a cloth satchel.

"I didn't know if you needed rod bearings too, so I went ahead and gave you some." She said, tying the bag with a piece of leather. She didn't seem to notice Jak was now present in the room. She placed the satchel in Daxter's hands with a smile. "Do you have someone to help you with the eng- Oh! Hey, Jak, didn't see you there. Oh, did you hear, Daxter?" Daxter raised an inquisitive eyebrow, looking back at Jak for a second. "Jak got mugged a couple days ago." This made both eyebrows shoot up in mock confusion.

"Really? I didn't think anyone had the guts to mess with big, bad, and gruesome here." He said snidely, pointing back at the flustered blonde behind him.

"We didn't think so either, but he came in with a blaster hole in his leg and half-dead. Sig wouldn't say anything other than he couldn't reach Jak in time to stop the crook. Took nearly two days for the wound to heal up completely." Daxter couldn't help but smirk as Keira talked about her hero like he wasn't there.

"Huh, that's really weird. Well, I better get back to the garage; Shiv'll help me with taking the engine apart and puttin' it back together. He's got the muscle for that, I don't. Thanks for the parts Keira, good luck in the race tomorrow." Daxter turned and shoved past Jak without another word, tying the satchel to his belt-loop.

He waved goodbye to Torn, who was in the kitchen making some sort of disgusting-looking soup. Or maybe he was brewing his own beer again? Torn gave a half-hearted wave and turned back to his concoction on the stove.

As soon as he was outside, he breathed in the rainy air and let out a long sigh.

"Calm down in there buddy," He said to his crazy-beating heart, "It's all good now." He lightly jogged back to his own garage, inwardly crossing his fingers in hopes Razer wasn't back yet.

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And, if you haven't already at least read Sunnyhome's fictions; why? Why haven't you? They are very lovely and you need to. Reviews for her are reviews for me. :D


	11. Meetings and Insights

Mizo, from behind his desk, stared blankly at his door. He had been awaiting the arrival of Razer for nearly twenty minutes now, and had defiantly had a few choice words at the ready. Finally, after an announced arrival, the dark haired racer entered.

"You wished to see me, Mizo?" The blonde smiled and offered him the seat across the desk.

"Yes, and you are now twenty minutes past your due arrival. I hope whatever it was that kept you from this important meeting was worth it." Razer frowned inwardly, outwardly remaining as cool as could be.

"A slight problem with sabotage is all. Everything is sorted now, and we can race with not a problem." Mizo bolted from his seat in anger.

"Not a problem? How about your losing streak against that idiot Jak? For the past three races you have tied neck-in-neck, with the same amount of damage to your car as he has on his. I see a problem there, don't you?" Razer unconsciously shifted back in his chair, eyeing the gun on his boss's desk.

"It won't happen in this race. Jak _will _be eliminated by any means." Mizo smirked, walking around his desk to stand behind his racer.

"You're correct in that, Razer. Otherwise we'll have to eliminate that little distraction you've plucked from their team. What's his name? You know the one; used to be a rat, orange, and about three-foot tall?" Razer looked to his boss, who had moved to his shoulder. He hadn't meant to. He'd meant to play it off as if Daxter was just another expendable mechanic, which would save him from Mizo's wrath. His look gave him away, though, even if it was against his will to display his emotions.

"You mean that mechanic? He's just as expendable as the rest, Mizo, and you know it." He rebuked, recovering from the shock of Mizo's threat. This made Mizo laugh, quite manically.

"Well, I sure hope so. Because, right now, I have three men ready to take him out as we speak. Let's just see how expendable he is to your team." The blonde walked back to his desk and, pulling open the top drawer, pulled out a black comm. Razer tried to remain calm; it would do no good to kill the ruse now, in case Mizo was bluffing. Another smirk and Mizo was pressing the talk button.

"Sir?" Came a mostly static voice on the other side of the comm. Okay, so he wasn't bluffing. Razer still held a stoic look, hoping this was just a test.

"Is your target in sight?" The static voice confirmed with a _Yes, Sir_. "Tell your men to shoot." There was a tense moment of silence before three shots were fired, and a muffled scream echoed over through the speakers.

Razer shot up, turning for the door in desperation, but stopped short at Mizo's laughter. "I thought you said he was expendable? Why are you rushing out so quickly if you don't care?" Razer frowned. Suddenly, his comm. beeped. Razer looked to Mizo, asking silent permission to interrupt their exchange.

"Answer it. It might just be one of your racers wanting to tell you that you need a new mechanic." The racer quickly pulled out his comm.

"Razer here, what-" He was interrupted by Edjie's hysteric voice.

"Razer, thank the precursors! Look, some guys just shot Cutter in the leg; they were posing as part of Daxter's crew. He's bleeding heavily but we have the medics on him. Are you alright?" Razer looked back to Mizo, who wore a smug grin, arms crossed on his desk.

"I am fine. Where's Daxter?" Razer asked, hoping Mizo wasn't planning anything else.

"We don't know. Shiv's looking for him, but we don't think he's in the garage." Razer cursed, but recovered quickly after remembering he was still in the presence of Mizo.

"Find him and get him to work. Keep your comm.'s at a level three, got it?" Edjie confirmed and hung up to join the search for the red headed mechanic. Razer turned back to Mizo, frown prominent.

"I haven't touched him. Yet." Razer relaxed slightly, knowing Daxter wasn't in any immediate danger. "But, if you fail, you know what will happen. Only, this time; I won't target one of your racers."

"Of course." Razer knew all too well what would happen if he failed, fortifying his resolve. He would not fail.

**TORN:**

Torn scowled at the soup as the door closed. He was glad that rat was gone; glad the flea ridden, disease carrying, dirty rodent was out of their hair and no longer their problem. The kid may be human again, but he'd always be a rat, and the one who left them after _everything_, after _saving the world_ for goodness sake. The ex-guard never liked him, not with that loud mouth and inflated ego.

And all that was a lie.

He pushed the bowl away to take a bite out of a bread stick. The only good those thoughts did was make him feel awful. He liked Daxter when he was two foot tall and complained about crumby missions, and even now when he and that blonde walking freak-show were fighting.

That was another thing. That fight Jak had been in. Jak had told everyone it was just a mugging, but it didn't sit right. Daxter was involved, Torn was sure, but he couldn't imagine it being unwarranted. The kid was scared, for good reason too, but he'd never had to carry a weapon before, but, if Torn saw correctly – he was now.

Perhaps it was just a matter of time until Jak turned one everyone here, too? There had been too many close calls since Daxter left to make anyone feel safe. Even at night, when Jak would break the silence of the house with his tortured screams and animalistic noises, Torn was never sure if they would actually wake up the next day because of the anger in the blonde's screams; even if he was always fine by morning.

Torn rubbed his eyebrow and grimaced as two hands snaked their way around his waist.

"You're worrying again." Came Ashelin's inherently rough voice. "Stop it."

"I'm not worrying." Torn turned a bit but, as always, refused to make eye contact. He shouldn't need to explain himself, and it's not like talking ever helped win races.

"C'mon," she smiled gently, which was a rarity, unless she was trying to get her way. He could see her unbreakable 'Baron's daughter' nature come out every now and then. "We have work to do, soldier. Let them sort it out themselves. You need to stop worrying so much about their fights and think about your own, or _else_."

Torn grinned. Okay, so maybe not.

As he turned to retire with Ashe to their room, the sound of scraping metal ripped through the air. Without turning to glance in the direction it came from, they knew what -or rather who- it was and what was happening.

**JAK:**

Jak watched his once-best friend disappear through the door behind him and looked to Keira, hardly noticing her folded arms and sharp gaze.

What was Daxter even doing here anyway? This was his territory, his home -not somewhere he should have to be confronted.

A sudden urge boiling up through his chest made him turn and punch the wall -which wouldn't have done much damage other than momentarily deafen Keira, if only his skin hadn't gone so pale.

"Why can't he just piss off?" Jak looked at his knuckles. One was split and the others were forming bruises, hardly distinguishable against his grey-white skin. He was sure he'd feel them later.

It was all the dark eco talking -The primitive desire to defend his territory and get revenge against his rival, even though Daxter wasn't at all a contender except in the races- Sparked by his time in prison, there were some bad habits that lingered even now. If only Dax hadn't left him in that hell-hole so long, he wouldn't be like this.

_And Daxter has the nerve to call me 'Eco Freak'._ That made Jak's stomach turn into nauseating flips, a feeling he'd not experienced for a very long time. Not since Damas.

It made him hope one day he'd meet the rat on the track, and then it would be sickeningly easy to get his revenge. Not to kill him, that was the last thing Jak wanted. Dax had to understand what that felt like, to be abandoned at the worst and lowest in his life. He wanted to leave him on the track in pain and walk away, to forget about what he might be enduring.

It wasn't equal to two years, but it would have to do.

**DAXTER:**

Daxter kicked a rock as he went with immediate regret as the damn thing scuttled down the road loudly, he may as well have sent out a beacon to his whereabouts. Even though with those messed up dark eco powers of Jak's, a rock is hardly the thing that would enable him to be tracked. It was more likely the sound of a pulse, the smell of blood, the craving for brains… Okay, so not something so ridiculous. He wasn't actually a monster, though sometimes he was hardly distinguishable from the dark-tainted twins they once traversed the land to stop.

He touched the thin hair down his wrist, remembering his thick orange fur; dark eco did things to you, years of being a rodent sort of proved that much.

Daxter felt like he had blinked and he was home to the garage, though he never even remembered the whole walk except memory snapshots of the ground and his pace. And maybe a dull ache in his head where he'd been thinking too hard.

A quick look inside the door confirmed that Razer wasn't home yet, which he silently welcomed and ducked inside, plucking a drink from the minibar. Even though Daxter didn't like hiding things from his boyfriend, it was better that the fact he'd visited his exes garage so late at night remained a secret. Razer got in some serious moods sometimes, even though the man claimed to be too classy to express emotion. Daxter smirked, he knew better of course.

He leaned a shoulder to the garage door and stared at the Havoc V12's little sister – the brilliant blue Street Grinder. Sure she wasn't much now, but give Daxter – he tilted his head and regarded the car like he would a perky backside – one afternoon, and that baby would be the sweetest purring vehicle on the track.

If only Razer would let him race; especially considering now they were one man short in a four-par race.

A gurgling engine pulled up on the other side of the garage doors, and without enough time to untie the satchel, smooth footsteps padded into the room. "And where have you been?" Daxter nearly cringed at the familiarity of the accusing voice.

He hid the bag behind his forearm, using the other hand to scratch his eyebrow. "Er, I've been out, Raze. Keepin' out of trouble an' all."

Razer blew a smoke ring and waved a hand through it, "You almost sound convincing, Daxter." He slightly frowned, though it didn't show across his lips. "That worries me."

Daxter knew he was busted, "I needed some-"

"Bearings, I know. Shiv told me you were working late; you have been doing that a lot lately."

"I do what I'm good at. Sandover garage had bearings, and Kiera was nice enough to lend me some. Not like I'll be giving these back, I'll buy her others, 'cause you know, I have known her since forever an' I owe her big time now." Daxter hardly paused for breath, "Even after everythi-"

"Daxter." Razer barely smiled and crushed the cherry of his cigarette, "You, perhaps being the only person, ever, do not have to explain yourself to me."

The red-head took a deep breath, and then grinned at his appalling way of reassuring him of that trust they shared. He'd so long been neglected of it before, and it gave him an idea -a completely crazy idea, but an idea none-the less. "So it wouldn't be such a bad idea if I asked you to let me on the track?"

Razer's face dropped as if the elasticity in his muscles went slack. "What?"

Daxter felt silly repeating himself, and he knew the man heard, so he replied with a shrug.

"You just said it yourself; you're good at what you do. Leave the racing to me, Dax."

"Where have I heard that before?" Razer's eyes shaded over with anger at his boyfriend's words, "Okay, I shouldn't have said that. But what if I can do both, just see what I can do. That's all I ask. Besides, why waste money on a replacement for Edjie, when you have me?"

"The replacement is being funded by the race, no money comes out of our pockets. You do not need to worry about it, Daxter. Now, come to bed, it's late we'll talk about it in the morning." Which meant they wouldn't.

He shrugged, "Nah, I got work to do. What I'm good at remember?"

Razer rubbed the bridge of his nose and pointed to the wrench Dax had subconsciously been spinning between his fingers, "Put that down, and get into bed. I wasn't asking."

Daxter mock saluted to the exiting man, there was no arguing with him. And he had yet to find a situation worthy of proving just how stubborn he could be. Maybe soon he would race and he would impress everyone. They'll see. He took his leave and closed the door slowly, looking over the blue chrome shapes and perfect angles that made the Street Grinder, "One day baby." But first he'd have to get some orange paint.


	12. Stubborn

Daxter awoke to the smell of bacon and eggs. He rolled over and smiled; Shiv was always the morning cook on race days and made the best food Daxter had ever eaten. Noticing Razer wasn't in bed, he sat up and searched the room. He wasn't at his desk, and the bathroom door was open, so the only logical conclusion Daxter could come up with was he was in yet another interview or meeting.

After dressing himself –and a five-minute examination of himself in the mirror- he headed down to breakfast, noting the eerie silence of the house. Edjie wasn't present at the lop-sided square of wood on a pole they had the nerve to call a table. Shiv was seated, elbows strategically placed so as not to rock the wobbly table.

"Morning, ears, how's it goin'?" Shiv scoffed in response. "Where's everyone at?"

"Interviews. Your crew is waiting for your inspection on the cars, you might want to hurry." Daxter huffed; jealous the rest of the crew got to be interviewed.

"Why aren't you bein' interviewed? Thought you'd be with the rest of the team." He asked, grabbing a couple strips of bacon.

"Someone's gotta stay here and watch your scrawny ass." Daxter shrugged, knowing he'd caused enough trouble to warrant a baby-sitter. He walked over to the garage door and entered his security code, flinching as a couple sparks flew up when the metal doors opened. His crew was checking over slight details in the schematics, making sure everything was connected correctly so as not to upset their easily-angered boss.

"Sir, we've got the Street Grinder ready and painted like you asked. We did have a bit of trouble with attaching the newer weapon models but we were waiting for your inspection before we tried anything else." Daxter pushed past the goofy-looking elf and strode over to his baby. The blue steel was now orange, with a yellow stripe from the nose to the fin. Brand new Ottsel Supreme tires and freshly mounted eco-cannons with duel machine guns placed just under the nose on each side all made the unused machine look beautiful.

Daxter noticed right off the eco-cannons were newer models; newer than the car itself -that's probably why there was trouble attaching them- but they would work unless he over-heated them or managed to damage them too much.

"What about the rest of the team's cars? Have you upgraded the weapons and tuned everythin'?" His crew gathered around him, showing him notes, statistics, schematics and problems that had arisen during their work. He checked over their work and, after removing a bomb from Razer's decoy car and a couple jammers from Shiv's and Edjie's cars, he was bored. Luckily, his comm. saved him by giving out a loud and obnoxious beep.

"Daxter here." He answered without even looking at the caller.

"Hey, it's Keira. I'm outside your garage, can I come in?" Daxter froze and looked to his crew, who were still looking over the schematics for an update on the weapons system of Shiv's car. If they saw another mechanic in the garage, they'd waste no time gabbing to the racers about it. They'd tell Razer first, the little snitches.

"Uh, yeah. Gimme a sec and I'll open the doors for you." He hung up without letting her answer and immediately shouted orders to his crew. "Alright everyone, boss is gonna do inspections; everybody out." They looked at him, all twelce confused. He frowned.

They were just a bunch of imbeciles, that's all. "If you idiots aren't gone within the next two seconds, you're all going to find out how scary I can be." Finally getting their attention, Daxter watched them run out through the back door, more than likely off to do whatever they did when they didn't have to work.

After he was sure they were gone, he opened the main door. Keira walked in with a smile, still dressed in her usual skimpy outfit that Daxter was sure wasn't just for show.

"What can I do for you, Keira? Or is this a different kind'a visit?" The bluenette just rolled her eyes and took a look around the garage.

"You really know how to keep a clean work-area, Dax. That's what I miss about you. Everything had its place and the garage was always spick and span. But, anyway; I just came by to see if you could return the favor and loan me some spare parts." Daxter grinned, inwardly grimacing at having to be in the same room.

"Sure, what do you need?" He asked, hoping whatever she needed, they had in stock.

"You got some extra oil? We had an extra two quarts at the garage, but Jak got a little upset and, well, you know what happens to things when he gets in his moods." Daxter grinned.

"I understand that. Follow me and I'll get you that oil." He led her to his personal work area beside Razer's car, which was thankfully covered. No need to show the competition what they had on the hood. He stopped short, though, at her gasp. Daxter turned to see her staring in shock at his –unfortunately- uncovered Street Grinder.

"Wow, Daxter she looks amazing! How did you get the chrome to shine so much?" Then it hit her –unfortunately that was figurative, not literal. She counted the cars she _knew _were racing. Then she looked back to Daxter's car. "Are you racing?"

Daxter frowned, not knowing how to escape his current predicament. But, Keira, as always, knew his thoughts before he could smooth talk his way out.

"You are, aren't you? I didn't think Razer would let you." Daxter chuckled, making Keira raise an eyebrow.

"Well, he hasn't said no specifically; but he hasn't said yes, either. But, with or without his permission I'm going to race." He didn't know why he'd told her all that, but it felt good to be able to tell someone his plans without worrying about them going to Razer.

"You could get killed though!" She yelled. Daxter glanced back at the door leading to the house, hoping Shiv hadn't heard her shrill voice. The red head opened the cabinet beside his desk and pulled out two quarts of oil.

"Look, I know I could be killed; but so could the other racers. Everyone is risking their tails in this race, even us mechanics. Have you ever thought about how easy it would be for some hired thug to just walk in when the racers are gone, and just destroy anythin' and anyone in the garage?" By the look on her face, he'd guessed she never had.

"You're just being paranoid, Daxter. All the garages are secured when we leave." She took the offered oil and jammed them into her side pockets with a huff. "Look, I don't think you should race. Just let the racers do what they do best and we'll stick to what we're good at." Daxter suppressed the urgent desire to punch the idiotic woman right on her kisser.

"Of course, Keira, you're right. I'm not ready to race; hell! I've never raced in my life, never even driven a car on my own. Well, Razer should be getting' back anytime so –not to be rude- but you gotta leave, sweet cheeks." He all but shoved her out the door, waving goodbye before slamming the door shut.

He sighed heavily.

"What is it with these people and tellin' me I'm not able to race." He glanced over at his pride and joy. "We'll show them, won't we babe."

-00-

Kiera looked across the table to Jak, placing her fork down and resting her chin on her hand. "Did you hear Daxter might be racing in the next cup as a replacement?"

Jak hoped the nod hid the fact his ears twitched, "why's that?"

Torn chimed in, "I heard one of their racers had been shot or something, an assassin mistook him for Daxter."

"So Dax- I mean Daxter is racing?" Jak's stomach turned to electricity, "That's the stupidest thing I've heard in my life."

"How do you know all that?" Kiera pushed around the meat on her plate; she was always a bit of a closet vegetarian.

Torn eyed it off and she swapped their plates so the vegies and meat were traded, "Heard it over some interference on the comm."

"Snoop." Ashelin sneered, earning a glare from Torn. "Who cares, anyway? So what if the kid wants to race let him; it's his funeral."

"If Razer ever lets him out again." Torn said and unconsciously glanced knowingly at Jak who silently growled back at the accusation.

Kiera have expected there to be another meal-time dark episode by now, but Jak kept his calm. "He probably doesn't even know that Daxter is planning on racing, he wouldn't tell him. Or if he did I bet there are some serious words being exchanged in Mizo's shed. Guess we'll see in a couple hours at the race track." She shrugged, "Anyway, old news now."

Ashelin switched on the T.V. to Razer's face after successfully securing a position in the qualifier for the last Cup. "Speak of the devil. Uh, re-runs."

Jak turned his back, silently wishing the T.V. would fall from the cabinet, and then he wouldn't have to listen to that insolent voice.


	13. The Races Part I

Jak squinted up onto the grey and metallic track, long curving stretch suddenly cut off from sight over a rise. Yellow eco canisters bobbed just before the first sharp turn, only a handful though, and this race was important, packed with more than a handful of people. He'd be the first, their lives banked on it. Cold engines revved, reverberating the steel track, ringing in Jak's ears and he wished he had a helmet. The worst sound though, as Jak silently remembered, is the tearing metal and scraping alloy as a car was exploded; dragging its own sorry carcass off the road with force from the blast.

The Dethdrome was easy, filled with blue eco charges on smooth corners, and rich with just about everything else -though you couldn't be in the lea d for too long without a peacemaker hunting you. Jak would hang back and wait, it's not like he couldn't gain some speed when he wanted.

Up over the barriers sat the viewers, calm, sedated, yet to turn into their scavenging selves over carnage. Elf butchery and this was there game. So called entertainment. At one time, it would have made Jak sick to his stomach, but the excitement and rush again of being a hero, coming first. It was exhilarating.

The blonde looked around, everyone was here, but there was a space free and a racer missing. Daxter. He'd probably chickened out. Jak would like to say he was shocked, but he really wasn't. Daxter still had plenty of time to arrive within the next few minutes, but looking around, everyone was doing last checks on their cars, and time was narrowing very fast. Jak was the only one seated in his pre-inspected car and ready.

Constant chatter echoed from the crowd as the last minute ticked over, mingled with very few other noises. G.T. Blitz boosting ratings in his almost mechanical voice, his maintained face showing on the screens above. And Pecker, squawking his way into Blitz' bad books.

Another noise, it dragged every face around, especially Keira's at the sound of a bubbling engine. Roaring every now and then like thunder as it died to an idle, parking up to his side. One look across the orange and red garbed being, thin as a rake and tall with a helmet and black screen visor, and Jak knew who it was. Everyone knew who it was.

_He's going to get himself killed._

Daxter gripped the wheel, slowly sinking in to the fact he was actually here, actually racing. And Razer, just twenty feet away – had no idea. But Jak, why did he have to park right there, right at his side? Daxter looked at the clock as it ticked down into single digits. Soon there would be nothing but weapons, skill and chance between the two. And Daxter hoped Jak realized that, as he sat on his first time on the track. A darkening glare in his eyes proved the red-head wrong.

Daxter gripped the wheel, hoping Dark Jak didn't know how to drive a car. A smug grin flaunted underneath the others blue eyes, soon to disappear under his goggles and they fell back onto the track. Daxter cursed his sweating palms and the deepening thump in his ears, thanking his leather gloves for their extra grip. The timer dropped from the sky, bleeping once, twice, and the last siren sending rush of adrenalin through Daxter, straight towards his foot. He dropped the clutch and planted the accelerator and was off, not first, but that was okay. First is who everyone targets.

Daxter waited as Torn and Ashelin took the lead, he knew to stay invisible in the middle for as long as possible. Especially from Razer. But the two ex-KG's knew that someone had to be in the lead, they were always good at sacrifice. And enduring competition too. Keira was sky, but a good racer, hanging back in last, keeping out of everyone's red eco devices. Daxter hoped it wasn't to keep an eye on him, because the worried look in her eyes made him sure she knew.

Jak had his same idea, hanging in between Keira, Sig; Torn and Ashelin. Razer was somewhere up ahead, probably vying on the sidelines where the corners were sharper and the track was steeper. Show-off.

Razer was a smooth entrant, he knew the Death Drome far too well. He handled the corners with ease and glory, sapping up the crowd with not even a smirk. He glided sideways and recovered from his power slide, almost making Daxter jealous.

Daxter slammed the stick down for more power as he rounded a corner, following the elder racer's moves to close perfection. He even poked his head out of the car, a look in his eye like he wanted to blow him up. He'd only ever seen one person cop a look like that before, and it was Jak. Way before they started dating.

Static filled the team's communicator; Daxter palmed the wheel right into the spiral and held it to his cheek. "What's your name racer?"

Daxter stuttered away from the mic for a bit, trying to think of something believable, "Lode." He decided, using the name he had used for his crocadog as a child.

"Well, Lode, we're not playing copycat so get off my ass and start racing!" The line failed and Daxter smirked through his black visor.

"Gotcha." If Razer wanted him to start racing, he'd start racing.

The red and orange garbed man straightened the wheel for a moment, cutting in front of Jak's path and towards the edge of the spiral. He barely caught a glace, but Dax was pretty sure he was swearing and cursing his mother.

Approaching the barrier he consecutively slammed the gears back again, palmed the wheel right and slid straight through a blue eco pad right into a deflection device. Thank goodness for the new tires, Daxter confidently let out a short laugh and spun past Razer. Inwardly thanking goodness that it actually worked.

After this, Razer would have let him race all the time, after his inevitable episode the man would be impressed.

Keira squinted as the street grinder's tires spun and let out their own smoke screen. Firstly thinking Daxter had done an amazing job on fixing up the old girl to actually qualify for the race. And secondly thinking he'd have to catch up to Dax. Jak wouldn't protect him, Sig was only here for extra numbers, Torn and Ashelin were too busy in their own little competition. She was the only idiot on the track who would actually stick by the red-head's side.

She let out a small cough against the burnt rubber and dropped the blue eco, holding the clutch in for less resistance. Over taking Jak also, she sat beside Razer, seeing no yellow dial on his dash flashing so she launched past. He never used weapons that often anyway; the man was more into racing gracefully, and using skill to win instead of brute strength. Cunning and quick, like a fox.

In fact, no-one had used weapons yet. Everyone was spread down the track instead of their usual cluster of explosions and destruction. Cutter was always the one to use weapons first, and now he was in the hospital, no-one felt the need. Which was always a good thing with a newbie on the track as well.

Keira finally caught up to Daxter and pulled into his side, just enough so he could see her face. Mouthing the words, 'what are you doing?'

Daxter turned around for only a moment to witness Jak and Razer neck and neck, one ramming the others tire, neither able to take the lead because of the others ego. He would have winked a 'trust me', but the visor made that kind of thing hard. So instead he flipped up his thumb and rammed her out the way, dropping his mine straight into Jak's front tire.

The front end lifted temporarily off the ground, being an all-wheel drive it lurched back, only receiving half forward thrust. Razer was able to flaunt past with a spin of his back tires.

Keira punched her steering wheel and darted back out from the edge of the track, popping up next to an angry recovering Jak.

This was going to be a long race.


	14. The Races Part II

Sorry for the wait, t'was a long holiday for both Sunny and I. But, we're back! After Friendship is nearly completed, only a couple more chapters to go. There WILL be a sequal, but we probably won't post it until it's near completion. Anyway -read, enjoy, review and don't forget to feed your goldfish.

These last few chapters will be dedicated to the people who have followed and favorited: emilyrosemary98, EvErYtHiNgDePeNdS, and Saichin. Sunny and I appreciate you sticking with us for this long and hope you will enjoy the last few chapters of AF and its sequal -which has yet to be named.

-00-

The race started heating up after Shiv, taking Cutter's absence and lack of firepower exploitation into his owns hands, began opening fire on everyone. Preferably the Sandover Garage's racers, but if it was in his sights – he had his yellow eco charges onto them.

Razer swerved from the second bout of grenades, keeping his eyes on the track and beside him to where he had caught up to the serious tattooed man. He considered firing Shiv until the third round of grenades landed right in Torn's rear fender and he spun out. He spared a quick look in his rear vision mirror to the man crawling out and over the guard rails. He wasn't coming back into race for a while.

Another bright red vehicle, this one larger and not built at all for the Dethdrome, crashed into his side fender causing Razer's next to whiplash sideways. He smirked and thumbed the red eco button. Now to wipe that personal glare from the tattooed woman...

Ashelin watched as what had to be Daxter passed, unnoticed by Razer and followed closely on tail by Keira. There was no way she would let that yakkow beat her in a race. She didn't have to win, but as long as she beat the green sage's daughter. It was a bit personal, knowing the blonde hero was sleeping with Keira _as well_. If only she could get past Razer and Torn and their little scuffle ahead.

Her thoughts were cut short by a few bright flashes ahead that made her ears ring, even through the helmet. Ashe looked around, clearing away the sudden blur fogging her vision. Razer was disappearing ahead, along with Keira and Daxter, Shiv and Edjie were catching up, fast; Jak and Sig were in last place, obviously waiting this one out. And Torn, who sat perched on the sidelines waiting for the emergency team was disqualified, car totalled.

It was up to her now. She popped the lid on the blue eco release and held fast, waiting until she opened fire on the rear of the older racer's car, hoping a few out of the many bullets would connect.

Daxter felt the rogue gunfire meant for Razer hit his vehicle and he slammed the gears back, taking off again, he was unfortunately out of blue charges, so more revs would have to suffice. He couldn't help but smirk at Keira's face as she watched the tuned car take away to the track like a monster. At least until the whistling tick of bullets moved off Razer's car and onto Keira's, bursting her back tire and reeling her into an unrecoverable spiral.

Dax closed his eyes for only one moment as the sharp fender of the bluenette's vehicle rammed his front tire and they spun. He recalled his vision being black one moment, and then a shattering noise and the obscurity smashed away, leaving his sight to be engulfed in serrated burnt hues of red and orange igniting from blue and green sparks. A crippling blast that claimed every bit of the surrounding world, flipping their cars like toys. If everything wasn't so deadly it would have been spectacular.

Daxter remembered the air -being in it for mere seconds before he felt the earth crash down on top of him again. Or maybe he crashed to earth. He wasn't sure. All that he knew was after he touched down again, his bones turned to dry wood and splintered instantly. Once the burning crackle was replaced by a ringing tune, it was painfully welcome.

Razer looked at the carnage ahead; the only way through the mess was to blast the mangled vehicle away. Sure, for a moment he doubted. This man was one of his team, which meant he shouldn't blast through, but maybe get out and help. But this was the _Dethd_rome, and he would not become a casualty. Or a loser. The finish line was so close, after all and he was technically the leader, if you didn't count this mangled wreck ahead and the people inside.

Daxter gripped his temple and raised himself to his knees, looking from near the edge of the track, as another car, deep royal purple and golden spray paint flickering pearlescent. Daxter smiled, just for a moment before he noticed the missile, a stream of smoke on its tail as it headed for the wreck a little bit away. Keira managed a quick glance over and tucked herself into the footwell before a blast threw both the vehicle carcasses to the side of the track. The world seemed to shake as the sound of tearing metal and fire burst from the explosion.

Daxter remembered a sharp pain in his tongue, and everything went black.

-00-

The next moment, Daxter wasn't sure if he was alive or dead. A bright light hung in front of him like light eco, slowly hovering around him before disappearing somewhere behind him. Then it was dark again.

There was a gentle shove on his shoulder from a too-hot hand, startling him awake. He shot up from his lazy sprawl, looking around for a moment, confused, until he recognized his surroundings. It was Sentinel Beach. He was back in Sandover. Beside him, with a goofy grin etched on his face, was Jak. Young Jak -the Jak that existed before Baron Praxis, before Errol, before the races.

Daxter couldn't speak, tongue suddenly fat and throat suddenly dry, but Jak didn't seem to notice as his grin only grew wider and his blue eyes shining with the reflection of the mid-day sun that hung just above their heads. Daxter could feel the sun burning into his scalp and the sand beneath him. He could hear the waves slowly sloshing onto the beach and taste the salt in the air.

It took a moment before the situation finally set in. Was he dead? Was this some sort of sick joke made by those stupid rats that had the guts to call themselves gods?

Daxter didn't even realize he'd zoned out until Jak's hand was back on his shoulder. He looked over to the young version of Jak with a frown. After a moment, Jak's smile dropped and his face took on a more quizzical look, as if asking what was wrong.

The shorter elf jumped up and away from the blonde, eyes wide and mouth agape. "J-Jak?" The elder boy responded by nodding, brows furrowing in confusion at the red head's reaction. "Oh, this ain't right at all." Daxter groaned to himself, grabbing his ears and pulling; an old childhood habit.

Jak stood up, not even bothering to wipe the clumps of sand stuck to his clothing. Daxter sank down to a squat, screwing his eyes shut as if to block out the world.

Jak's footsteps were soft and slow on the sand, cautiously approaching the panicking red head, who was still mumbling how nothing was right. He sat on his knees next to the red head, wrapping an arm around his shoulders with a timid smile.

"This has gotta be a joke, right? I'm dead, I know it." He rambled, "Oh, man. Boy is Razer gonna kill me. Well, technically he can't kill me if I'm already dead, right? Maybe I'm not dead? This is just one of those weird life-flashing-before-my-eyes thing that happens when you're close to death." He took a deep breath, looking back to the ground before exhaling shakily.

Suddenly, the arm was gone from around his shoulders, Jak's warmth leaving as well. Daxter didn't even look up, his thoughts too muddled. The wind pushed at his shoulders from behind, making him dig his bare toes into the warm sand to stop himself from falling forward. He listened to the nostalgic sounds of nature. This place wouldn't survive another year. It was fate. The KG would come after he and Jak and Keira and Samos foolishly tampered with Precursor technology, and they would destroy everything.

It hurt him more than it should. Nearly five years of living in cities surrounded by steel and guns had wiped away the imprint of flowers and sand and real trees. He cradled his head in his arms. It was one thing to want to go back to the way things used to be, another thing entirely to actually experience it happening.

Daxter didn't know how long he'd been listening to the sound of the world around him before he heard Jak's heavy footsteps again. He looked up, moving his arms to rest on his shoulders. He watched Jak approach, hands behind his back and a faint blush on his cheeks. It sparked another memory from before.

Jak knelt in front of him and brought his hands forward to reveal a slightly crumpled yellow flower. Daxter reached forward, grasping the withering flower. He held it gently in his hands; as if afraid it would turn to ashes if he held it too tightly.

_Jak offered the golden flower to him with a smile and he couldn't help but jump from his place in the sand and wrap his arms around the blonde's neck._

He didn't feel the same as he had then, when Jak first gave him the flower. It had been the real start to their rocky relationship. The memory felt far away, but clear in his mind now that he was holding the exact same flower.

_Jak smiled, letting out a short grunt as the red head launched himself at him, full weight knocking him back into the sand. Daxter was giggling and it made Jak's heart leap into his throat. _

Could Daxter follow the memory even knowing what would happen to them? He watched his own vision blur as his eyes watered. Jak was shifting from one foot to the other, hands nervously fidgeting with the hem of his tunic.

_Daxter planted a kiss on Jak's cheek. "I knew it! I knew you didn't have that much of a thick skull." Jak blushed bright red, leaning up to return the kiss. Daxter crinkled his nose. "We really gotta work on those chapped lips, bud. We ain't kissin' anymore until they stop feeling like sandpaper." This earned a chuckle from the blonde under him, along with another kiss, this time aimed for Daxter's lips. The red head accepted the kiss with a sigh. Chapped lips or not, this was still the best –and only- kiss he'd received in his life._

This is what Daxter missed. This Jak. Not the angry, murderous, self-centered Jak that this Jak would become.

Daxter flung himself at the blonde, wanting to feel the same as he had back then, when everything was right and it was just him and Jak. He didn't knock Jak over this time, he was more cautious than he was before, not knowing if this was real or not. Jak didn't seem to mind as he wrapped his arms around the shaking red head's back. Daxter clung to this image of Jak, shoving it into a safe place in the back of his mind. He just wanted this Jak back. He wanted the loving, carefree Jak that always knew what to do to make his day a little better.

"I'm so sorry, Jak." He whispered to the blonde. He tightened his hold as Jak tried to turn. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I didn't want you to hate me. Hell! I didn't want to hate you. I just want things to go back to how they were, when we were friends." Jak jerked back out of Daxter's grip with a look of sadness. Daxter smiled, still bleary-eyed. "That doesn't mean I'm dumping you, Jak, so shut up." The blonde smiled running a hand through Daxter's unruly hair as the red head laid his head on his shoulder.

Daxter hoped this wasn't just some dream. He tended to talk in his sleep, and if Razer heard that last bit, he'd be in for an earful. He let out a chuckle at this.

Jak shifted. It didn't bother Daxter until the blonde suddenly felt softer. He looked up from Jak's shoulder, eyes going wide as Jak's face started fading away. Daxter fell forward, through the image of young Jak, and he fell onto hard ground. Pieces of Sandover floated by like cloth in the wind. Daxter fought the urge to grab one of the images, a small piece of him wanting to keep the memories of old Sandover. But it was too late. Everything was gone. Sandover, Jak –everything.

He looked down at his hands, still feeling the slight weight of something.

The golden flower sat in his grasp, slowly withering away, suddenly aged.

Then it was gone. And Daxter was left with a painful, empty feeling in his heart.

And he woke up, back on the track with the feel of asphalt against his back and metal against his bare skin.

Daxter's groan was cut short by a choke and a gag in the scorching air. It was rank with something akin to burning earth and Armageddon; the smell of oil and dark eco, a concoction of fumes which scraped the back of his throat as Daxter gasped. It was even coming strongly through the helmets air filter, before he realized it had been smashed in. The black visor now nothing but a jagged edge on his vision.

Daxter blinked twice against the dense heat on his face, mingled with the acidic sting of petrol vapour. He could feel an ache in his neck, and another in his wrist, and distantly feel his palms sweat into his gloves. The elf's ears picked up a high pitched whine that seemed louder than the world, almost skull imploding, but so far away. _Everything_, was so far away. Keira's unconscious body only an arm's length to his right, she may as well have been in another world entirely. He swallowed thickly against a sweet sickening tang. It was the taste of blood that brought him out of a daze, throwing him straight to the pavement of a quite literal reality.

As he approached the smoke and disturbed dust, Jak's chest clenched and sent electricity surging towards his stomach. That was Kiera's car, and- and Daxter!

With a last shot of blue eco, Jak slammed his car into neutral and ripped the handbrake, sliding it to stop in a precarious angle on the track and it dully purred a safe way from the debris. He examined the wreckage; both cars were balanced unstably, mangled together in a just recognisable pile. The firebat was bleeding fuel and eco onto the track, . The street grinder's tyre rim was red hot and spinning on its pivot, sparking against what was left of the side fender.

If one of those sparks landed in the puddle of oil. They would all go up in flames.

Jak included as he stepped into the liquid and broke into a run toward Kiera. She sat in her intact seat, hunched over the wheel, spine and arm awkwardly bent with half her waist covered by the shattered bonnet of the firebat. But she was breathing. It was easy enough to pull her from the wreckage, just a few seconds work. Jak threw a glance over to the bluenette as the metal shifted, losing its balance as the weight of the fuel seeped away. He _would_ save her, or at least that's what he knew he_ should_ have done.

Daxter wheezed at the air, it was painful to breathe as something was trapping his neck. Like his windpipe was being crushed and he wondered what he'd hit. He raised himself from the wet ground and felt around his throat, the crushed helmet squeezing his windpipe. Daxter attempted to roll onto his back but was thwarted by a sharp pain in his legs. He didn't dare look around. It was obvious what had happened. Memories of Damas came to mind, an atmosphere quite like this. Full of destruction and dark eco, and war. Jak's father had been killed, pinned under the Slam Dozer, and now Daxter was going to become another Damas.

A flash of denim and Dax squinted up to the blonde man, or should he say the white haired man. Dark eyes peered down and Jak crouched by his side, gripping the oxygen filter and peeling the front of the mask off like the lid of a can.

Daxter took one quick breath before he let himself scream, catching a glimpse of his legs under the door of the street grinder. The leather of his racing gear had melted from the heat of the engine, and the metal had been warped, luckily, to not sever his legs completely. He'd have a broken leg, but he'd still have a leg.

Jak walked to the door and bent the metal inwards. The good news was that Daxter was able to roll to his back, using his good arm to drag himself a little way. But the bad news outweighed the good as the cars lost balance, teetering dangerously was the Firebat, its tire still spinning and sparking high above the wreck, a small patch of slowly dripping oil catching fire on the hood.

Daxter's eyes widened and Jak grabbed his old friend's shoulders, towering over him; images flickered before him of the fight. The damage the helmet had done to his throat recalled the strangling clawed hands. But on this grey face there was no feral grin, but a grimace, almost painful, and his eyes flashed white before returning to blue. Jak was calm, but he still growled deeply and threw the red head back to the earth.

This was the Daxter who shot him, the very man who left him there in the bazar. And now he was meant to save him? Jak half smirked down before turning to the bluenette. He knew it was rough, but it was quick, and he pulled the door clean off it busted hinge. Leaving it swinging lazily under the sparking tire.

The baby blue eyes squinted up to Jak and the blonde grabbed Kiera roughly by her overall straps and put her over his shoulder and turning back to him. A look in his shallow blue eyes, a consideration, maybe a choice. Something struggling its way up into them, and then Daxter got it. He was pondering not helping him.

The flaming oil dripped through the bonnet, leaking into the engine and Daxter closed his eyes, touching his chin to his chest. The world had turned inside-out so quickly. But it was expected. And what, by the way, did Daxter expect after all? A perfect smooth road? Or a harmless track waiting for a newbie like him? Sure, it seemed easy when Jak did it, but once all the cocky flirting was over, it was a battlefield. He'd seen the carnage first hand, too, witnessed Razer with a few too many scratches and bumps. And Jak with more than countable, as he gave off false invulnerability, getting himself into trouble.

A hot hand grabbed the red-heads chin, held it up, "Dax, you stupid son of a bitch. Look at me." Dax opened his eyes to Jak, holding his chin and just a bit too close to his face, eyebrows furrowed sternly. "Don't you ever say I never did anything for you."

Jak grabbed a handful of Daxter's collar and dragged him out of the wreck to the refuge of the far guard rail, propping one after the other to it. He slumped down himself, a satisfied look on his face as if he'd just won his first fight.

Daxter would have happily wiped that smirk off his face, but knowing Jak would more than likely throw him back into the now brilliant pyre, he decided against it. Instead he threw his gloves down and waited for someone to pick them up, and for this awkward silence to break.

Jak sneered towards his lap, "So this is what happens when they let grease-monkeys on the track. Maybe next time you should leave the racing to the people who know how to do it." He looked over, knowing full well Dax had been doing fine before Ashelin dropped back. Jak was just being immature, proving a point. Being _hurtful_.

That wasn't the point, now. Wasn't it? Daxter glared at the retreating blonde, who hopped back over the rails to get back into his car and play catch-up.

Now all he had to do was wait for the emergency team to finish up with Torn's cuts and fix him up. He knew he had a busted arm, and his legs were cut up pretty bad. Not to mention he had a splitting headache.

All he wanted to do was go home, suggle up in bed, and forget this day even happened.

-00-

Part III of the races will be up soon. Until then, enjoy this chapter and the AF side -Vacation.

Love, Pr-anx and SunnyHomes


	15. In the End

Welcome to the final chapter of AFTER FRIENDSHIP, the first Dazer story on Fanfiction. Sunny and I took a lot of time with this chapter -procrastinating quite a bit and dealing with crappy internet connections. We hope the length will make up for the wait. I would also like to add that this story sparked a friendship that would've otherwise never have happened. This is all dedicated to my Australian best bud, Sarah. May our jokes get weirder and our new-found fandom grow larger!

ENJOY

-00-

"_Looks like Daxter's been taken out!" _G.T Blitz yelled over the loud-speaker. Daxter shrank back from the stares of the crowd -So much for secrecy. He could only hope neither Razer nor the rest of the crew had heard that.

"We have to take you to the hospital to check your injuries." The medic behind him said. Daxter frowned.

"Why? I'm not in any pain or anythin'." Though he _was _feeling slightly woozy and had a not-so-slight headache, but he wasn't going to admit anything until he was sure Razer finished this race. A firm pull on his elbow brought him to his feet. As soon as he was upright, the medic let go of his arm, leaving the red head to fight the suddenly heavy air to keep himself from toppling. Okay, so maybe he _did _need to go to the hospital.

He gave the medic a withered look, and then looked back to the track. Jak and Razer were still neck and neck, ignoring the other racers to target each other. Shiv and Edjie were right after them, sandwiching Sig's car between theirs, slowly grinding their vehicles against his, chipping away at not only the metal plating, but his tires. Ashelin was trying to over-take the duo, head finally into finishing this race and taking out the competition.

There was another squeal of tires as the medics led Daxter and Torn to the ambulance, the medics hoisted the stretcher containing Keira in beside them. There was a loud pop and a high pitched squeal from the track. Daxter didn't even have a chance to see what was happening before he was nearly shoved into the awaiting vehicle.

-00—

**ASHELIN**

Ashelin kicked the clutch and shifted into third gear, accelerating to speeds she knew would help catch back up to the lead, though a tiny voice in the back of her mind wondered if it was such a good idea, seeing as how the other racers would be grabbing red eco before she could have a chance at it. But, she reasoned with herself, the funny thing about a race like this is that you can't turn back once you start moving, you can't slow down once you gain this much speed. She jerked the wheel hard to the left, barely missing the rail in the hair-pin turn; the thin metal the only thing keeping her from the rocks below and a quick and painful death.

Then she saw it. There, in the middle of the track a flashing red dot, signaling one of the racers finally dropped a mine. She knew she was going too fast to safely maneuver around it, too fast to stop what was about to happen. She slammed on her brakes, feeling her joint pop from the hard connection of her foot against the pedal. It was all in vain, even she knew it.

Her car's tires squealed, leaving the smell of burning rubber and asphalt drifting into her helmet, making her gag. There was no time to waste now. She closed her eyes, preparing for the blast.

It was quiet for a single second before the mine went off, jolting her car to a stop and sending it flying with a bright explosion that nearly blinded her, even through the combination of closed eyes and helmet.

She could feel the metal from her front-end tear away under her feet like shredded paper, pieces of her engine flying past her face. She felt a shard of metal spear through her shoulder.

Ashelin hissed, the pain excruciating and near unbearable. She could feel the shards of glass hitting her skin, leaving slivers of pain as they cut into her cheek, neck, and arms -could feel the car flip into the air, leaving a horrible rising feeling in her stomach. Then it fell, landing on the pavement with a sickening crunch before skidding backwards, leaving sparks and a trail of twisted metal and scraps in its wake.

Ashelin could hear the other racers fly by in their last lap. She wouldn't be alright after a crash like that, but she would be damned if she let it kill her.

Another three feet, and her car stopped its ear-wrenching grind across the burnt asphalt. She opened her eyes weakly, groaning as her abused limbs tried to work again. She brought a hand up, ripping off her charred helmet and throwing it out through the hole where the front of her car used to be.

Unbuckling her safety belt was her next priority; it was cutting into her skin, leaving thin streaks of blood running up her chin. She would have to do it carefully if she didn't want to topple onto her already sore head. Being upside-down was never a good thing.

The buckle snapped, leaving her to gently lower herself down onto the roof and crawl onto the track.

She waited, back against the rail, blood running from various spots on her torso and legs, for the medics; all the while telling herself not to black-out – that it wasn't as bad as it could be- and scolding herself for being so careless.

-00—

**SIG**

Sig could only hear the scraping of metal and the whining of his weapon's system as it tried to right itself. It was one thing to be taking damage from an enemy's weapons, another thing entirely to be slowly crushed by said enemy's loaded-to-the teeth car. It almost made him sick, and, if it hadn't been for his previous experiences with death, Sig would have been gnawing at his nails trying to find a way out of this mess.

This just wasn't his day; or his race.

The two of Mizo's cronies had boxed Sig between their vehicles and taken it in turns to pull away and mash his car to a pulp. Which would have worked a lot better, if he hadn't reinforced his roll cage just for this reason. Wastelander's habits die hard, and it looks like it paid off this time. Or so he thought, as one large push jerked him to the side. A teeth gritting shriek of peeling metal and his side fender tore off, shredding backwards with impossible amount of force and jangling backwards down the metal track.

Sig looked to either side, catching a glimpse of Shiv's front tire climb up his own. Crumpling his hood like a tin can. "Aw come on!" Sig roared. He'd just saved enough to buy this damn thing!

"Keep it together, head in the game." He chanted quietly to himself. They would mess up somewhere during their discourse with him, and he would not only escape, but he would teach them a lesson straight out of the Wastelander's handbook. Then he saw an opening, they were both inching away from his car, preparing to ram him again. The maneuver –if executed correctly- would devastate the Basher, leaving him no choice.

With the squeal of rubber, Sig smashed back a gear and hung off his wheel to the left. The hood roared to life and he saw the warning light flick off, "yeah! That's what I like to see!"

He hit the clutch, pushing the gearstick brutally for more power, hearing the gears whine and whirr beneath his battered hood. He ignored the protests of the abused machine and without much room to work with; he did his best to disengage his car from Shiv's Howler. His wheel let out a loud grinding sound, and his weapons squealed in their bearings, the high-pitched noise making Sig's teeth itch. But she was going, and he was still in the race. Though if he didn't find some eco soon, he wouldn't be much longer.

The men on either side of him didn't seem to notice him slowly shimmying out of their hold until he was nearly free. They swerved in, but missed, and instead hit each other, both violently spinning out.

A quick glance behind confirmed the cronies were taken out well and truly. Sig let out a triumphant laugh. "I'm back, baby!" That was only if Jak and Razer hadn't taken all the green eco.

-00—

**RAZER**

Razer watched Jak slide to a stop near the wreckage. He could tell the hero's buxom blue haired friend was in trouble by the look on the blonde's face. But, judging by the direction Jak was headed, that woman wasn't his top priority. At least Razer wouldn't have to worry about that temp burning to death –like the last one. Though he shouldn't be surprised, Jak was always so eager to be the hero. No matter who got hurt in the process.

The mic in his helmet came to life with an ear-wrenching squeal. _"Looks like –'s been- out!" _Was the static filled announcement from G.T. Razer wondered for a moment what he'd said, before the scene in his mirrors distracted him.

The dark haired racer chuckled. Well, Shiv and Edjie _were _going to get a bonus, but after a mess-up like that they'd be lucky if Mizo kept on the team. Not like it mattered anyway. After this race, nothing else mattered.

The money was going to be good, which meant both he and Daxter could live comfortably, there would be no more threats of harm or death, no more hours hunched over paperwork or waiting for his favorite red headed mechanic to finish the mods and upgrades on the cars.

He hadn't realized until now how domesticated he'd become in the past month. It was a welcome change from his old life-style choices. Maybe, after this race, they'd leave Kras. He wouldn't have ties to Mizo anymore –his debts would be paid after this, with money to spare -Enough for a nice apartment in Haven and a few special amenities.

He swerved around pieces of the shattered cars as he passed on the final lap. There were only three racers now; him, Jak, and the Wastelander. There was no way in hell he was going to lose to some eco freak and his pet gorilla. Not when both his freedom and Daxter's life were at stake.

Suddenly, he could see Jak on his tail, blue eco propelling him faster down the track and eco cannons charged. The finish line was in his sights -all he had to do was get rid of the nuisance behind him.

Razer smirked.

But first, it was time for a little intimidation.

-00—

**JAK**

Jak jumped back into his car, hand immediately going for his blue-eco switch; his mind racing faster than he could ever be on the track. Why had he saved that ungrateful brat? He'd sworn to himself to leave the red head laying on the track, near-death or not, to make him pay for the two years it took to free Jak from the Baron's prison.

But it wasn't really him talking. It was the dark eco.

He could hear the dark voice in the foreground of his mind, screaming at him to go back and finish what that wreck had started –to make the little twerp pay for what he'd done to him by leaving with that pompous jerk. But, it was the lighter, more rational side that made a smile form and a burst of pride leap into his chest, even as he sped away from the wreckage. He'd done what he had always done before. He rescued the one person who had meant something to him –though Dark Jak would protest this.

He needed to stop thinking about anything other than the race. After this, he could live comfortably –possibly for the rest of his life. But the image of a broken and bloody Daxter flashed in his mind, making him swerve jerkily until he regained his composure.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Sig trapped between Shiv and Edjie's cars. The thought of helping his friend flitted through his mind, but there wasn't any time for that, he had to catch up with Razer and win this race, no matter what. He couldn't see the racer, which made him panic slightly, hoping that he wasn't that far behind the lead.

There was a loud squeal that made Jak's ears ring, even through his helmet, and he glanced back to see Shiv and Edjie slam into each other and spin out. Sig's engine revved and he was off again, though at a slower pace due to the damage on his car.

Jak finally saw Razer in the distance, nearing the last turn before the finish-line. It was now or never. He opened up his blue eco reserves and held on tightly to his steering wheel. His tires squealed as the eco boosted his car forward, and soon he was on Razer's tail again.

The built-in communicator suddenly hissed to life. Jak raised an eyebrow, not knowing who was on the other line.

"Hello, Jak. Having fun yet?" Razer's voice drifted through the speakers, drawing a frown from Jak. "I'm actually surprised you've made it this far considering how-" The elder man let out a chuckle, "_wonderfully _you've been driving."

Jak couldn't remember hating Razer this much, even before Daxter left, but that wouldn't matter after another couple yards. This race would be over soon; with him as the victor.

-00-

"You're not serious?"

"Jak."

"I saved his life and I should apologise?"

"Friendship does not work on a point or score system. You saved both of us but I don't see you holding it against me."

"You're not some stupid brat who thinks he can just leave when it suits him. This fight is his fault, and I'm not apologising."

Keira leaned forward in her bed and shoved Jak hard. "This stupid fight has nearly cost all of us our lives, it has gone far enough! If you could just control your temper in the first place none of this would have happened."

Jak noticed Keira was being very still. Dangerously still and staring with an expression that threatened to burn the skin right off his face.

She took a calming breath and straightened, "Go see him right now and apologise. He has every right to move on after what you did. Go."

And that is what lead Jak to stand here, paused with his knuckles to the door _No: 121 _and frozen very still. There were noises inside. Snoring? Daxter snored when he didn't purr, no matter how he argued. Even after becoming a human again on a deep or restless night he tried to purr in his sleep. It was just one of those things…

Without warning the door flew open and Jak's breath hitched. A white haired man stood before him, judging the newcomer with cold, calculating grey eyes. It took a moment of realisation for Jak to see the long white coat and a checklist. He managed a peek at all of the ticked boxes. Unsure if that was a good or a bad thing.

"Daxter, you have a visitor." He said slowly, not removing his stare.

Just past the doctors shoulder lay a bed-ridden Dax, out of the mangled racing gear and in a light blue singlet which Jak presumed was provided by the hospital. A drip filled with green eco pumped into his forearm and two tubes lead from his nose. The red-head rubbed his eyes and with a small smile looked over to the door, first examining the doctor who'd apparently done all his tests while he'd been unconscious. His mouth straightened when he set eyes on Jak.

"Oh." Daxter rubbed a weary eye and sat up, "s'you." He would have been worried or at least panicked a bit if he wasn't so out of it.

Jak took a short step to pass the doctor before a clipboard caught his chest. The doctor stopped him with a glance and looked to Daxter, "Is he welcome in here with you, I can stay if you like?"

"I'm actually here you know? I can hear you." Jak grumbled as he rolled his eyes; but the two others didn't seem to notice, or didn't care.

"He's alright. There's not much he can do to me that hasn't already been done." Cocky and fiery as always.

Jak felt his ears burn. He could tear this hospital down to its knees with a power even Daxter wouldn't understand. But he chose not to, instead he huffed and regarded the man sourly as the physician took his exit.

The blue eyed gaze wandered over the white, small room. These sort of places were familiar to Jak. They made him uncomfortable, on edge like a caged animal, and it wasn't where he wanted to be talking to Daxter like this. There would be hostility, he knew it. If Jak let himself get mad- no. This place would have to do. At least the sun was shining in through the thin curtains and somewhat fresh air was circling. He heard the weak sound of birdsong from outside. It seemed to be a perfect day. But it wasn't.

"Hey, Dax."

Daxter shuffled, "Can I help you?"

"I save your life and this is the thanks I get?" Jak got straight to the point as he walked to the other side of the bed.

"You also kinda endangered it in the first place. Remember? Ears as chopsticks, the strangling, the attempt to kill." Daxter snapped quietly. The fear, the pain, the absolute horror on Daxter's face as he struggled to regain both his breath and his composure. Jak remembered it all –how could he forget with the guilt he had been slated with. It wasn't something he could ever forget. "Where's Razer?"

Jak chose to ignore that, he did have a right to be angry. And like Keira said, he had a right to move on. "Can I sit?"

Before Daxter could reply the blonde had slumped down in the chair beside him, "I'll say it again, where's Razer?"

"He's soaking up his glory at the track." Jak rocked himself back, straightened his shoulders and folded his arms.

_That means he's got his guard up, _Daxter squinted at him and Jak knew. "You were disqualified?"

"So?" Jak shrugged, his shoulders falling lower than before.

"Why?"

"I got out of my car."

Daxter nodded sadly, Jak almost gave a look of hope. "You didn't have to ya'know? Save me, I mean."

"I couldn't leave ya, Dax." Jak found himself smiling, remembering just how nice it was to talk to his best friend from Sandover.

"I did shoot you, it would have been even."

"There's a difference between being shot and burning to death."

Daxter didn't like the sound of either, and he had to admit it was sad what they had done to each other.

Nothing was ever fair for him or Jak and that's just the way it goes.

But Jak, he was the one who started this. Sleeping with everything that has a heartbeat, and leaving the virgin Dax home alone – or worse, fixing his cars with Keira.

"Look, Dax, I'm sorry. I really am. I'm planning on going back to Spargus for a while with Sig. We'll get the place right again, and I'll be out of your hair." That was what Dax wanted after all wasn't it, he was happy with Razer and he should be allowed. Jak laughed, it's not like he had to have his permission.

"What are you sorry for?"

Jak paused, he was about to retreat thinking he'd done what he came to do, but not anymore. "I don't understand."

"Are you sorry for trying to kill me or sorry for sleeping with every woman in Haven?" Dax looked Jak in the eye; he was too tired to be scared of him anymore. Besides, Jak had drawn the initial blood. Literally.

Jak could feel the dark eco crackling behind his teeth and burning in his ears but he swallowed it down. He had to if he was to be given any chance recovering what he had lost. Or rather, nearly lost. "What do you want from me, Dax?"

Daxter pulled the oxygen out of his nose and threw it over a shoulder. Jak raised his hand to protest but the red-head slapped it down, taking notice of the advancing black in the darker one's eyes. "Don't you dare start this shit again, buddy boy."

Jak gritted his teeth, "Don't worry. I have him under control."

"All I really want is to be happy, and okay, you used to make me so happy and you have been my best friend for years. I loved your stupid face an' everything. But Jak, you ruined that, you ruined us. And I can't love you again, you started all this hurt and you don't even realize it."

Dark and light flared in Jak's eyes, almost fighting for dominance, while Daxter's only brimmed with water. "Dax-"

"I'm not done." He demanded, "While I thought you were waiting for me and I was waiting for you, you just went ahead and took what was on offer everywhere else. What is worse is that you could all look me in the eye afterwards." Daxter trailed off and looked to his hands in his lap, a single drop of water trailing down his wrist.

The room was almost static with silence, machines buzzing and people down the corridor drowned by the stillness.

Jak roared and got to his feet, dark eco boiling at his fragile lid. "I know, I know I did wrong by you, Dax. You were always loyal and there and smiling, no matter what and I'm the idiot here."

"Don't play the guilt game, I feel nothin'." Daxter averted his eyes to the floor, bands of orange hair falling over his eyes.

"Shut up for a sec." Jak felt like an idiot, and if it wasn't for his now grey skin he'd have been blushing.

Daxter knew that voice, Jak wasn't all there and suddenly he _was_ scared again. "Jak, do you wanna settle down before you pop a blood vessel?"

"I have him under control! Just shush for a sec, I'm trying to apologise here. You know I didn't go out and try to hurt you on purpose. I got carried away and since me and Keira-" He turned to the window, "Well, you obviously know the story. I just thought you would never find out."

Daxter looked up disbelievingly as black eyes turned back to him, "Are you kidding?"

'It's no excuse for being fucking stupid, and I know that. But please I just want to be friends again. That's all, no catches, no strings." Jak's eyes lightened to a deep blue. "Just. Friends."

"Just friends." Daxter mused. Could it honestly work? Would they be able to go back to saving the world or even just hanging out. What would Razer say? Daxter rubbed his hand down his face. "I guess, I guess it could be alright."

Jak sighed and realized his lungs were heavy from holding his breath. "So, we'll just start there then?"

-00—

Back at the track, Razer was shaking hands with his fans, signing autographs, and taking part in the usual after victory celebration. G.T. Blitz's voice was droning on in the back-ground, soaking up all the attention from the cameras, his annoying monkaw co-host squawking in his ear excitedly.

He'd beaten that idiot Jak fair and square and had hopefully taught him a lesson about not messing with the top dog. It was just too bad Daxter hadn't been there to witness his great triumph against that egotistical blonde.

This brought an idea to his head. He pulled out his communicator, intent on calling Daxter –who was supposed to be taking it easy due to a sudden cold- until he noticed Shiv's panicked face running towards him. The crowd parted for the man, some less enthused than others about the shoving.

"Razer," He panted, "We just got a call from the medics." Razer frowned. It was probably about the temporary racer, the man _did _come out of that crash looking worse for wear. They were more-than-likely calling him to tell him the racer had died or would never be able to race again.

"And?" He asked with a smile. There was nothing to worry about –other than a furious Mizo, who would have to pay the bills.

"They say Daxter's in the hospital." The crowd around them went suddenly quiet.

"For a simple cold?" Shiv shook his head, still trying to catch his breath.

"He was the racer, the temp never showed up to the garage. Daxter took his place in the race, Razer." Razer felt his heart stop. He turned to his comm., dialling the red head's number. His palms started to sweat as not one, not two, but three clicks later and Daxter still hadn't answered. He threw the comm. to the ground and bolted for his idle Havoc still resting at the finish line.

The crowd scurried out of the way as he revved his engine back to life and swerved out of the Dethdrome, hell-bent on getting to the hospital as fast as the Havoc would take him.

-00—

He arrived at the hospital ten minutes later –which was a record considering it was nearly thirty minutes from the track- in a panic. There were few people in the waiting room to witness Razer's near break-down as he reached over the reception desk to grab a fistful of the nurse's shirt.

"Where is he?" He shouted angrily.

"W-who?" The woman stuttered, apparently unaware of who she was talking to. Razer yanked her over onto the counter, ignoring the frightened look she gave him.

"Daxter, the red head boy they brought here not even an hour ago!" He dropped her back behind the counter and watched her nervously flip through papers.

"Uh, he-he's in room 121! Down the hall to the left." Razer turned, jogging down the designated hall.

Razer couldn't believe it. The new kid on the track, whatshisnuts -that was Daxter? He should have known. Orange car, orange gear, orange everything. _He should have fucking known!_

_121, 121, where is room No: 121? 117, 119, 121!_

The racer caught the corner of the door the propelled himself into the room, back peddling at the sight. The last person he'd expected to see, or wanted to see, was sitting in the chair right where Razer was meant to be. Razer frowned as they turned to him in unison. Just another reminder of how close they used to be.

"Daxter, what the fuck were you thinking?" Razer slid himself over the opposite edge of the bed, enveloping the red head in a gentle embrace; unsure if he should be gentle. Unsure what was broken.

"Raze!" Daxter crowed, a smile replacing the dour expression as he returned the embrace.

Jak almost felt his heart fail. He used to be on the other end of that smile, maybe one day. There were still hopes and dreams after all -If not much else. He looked away.

"Are you okay?"

The red-head giggled weakly, "I'm fine, really. The only thing hurting is my ego. But c'mon, did you see me race? I was amazing!"

"It may be hurting but I notice it's as big as ever." Razer gave his boyfriend a light kiss and held their noses together.

"As always, babe." Daxter smiled wearily, settling his head back into the pillows.

The older man looked across to Jak, not exactly threatened, but as wary as a man would react leaving his pride and joy with an untamed lurker. Except there was a smaller attitude and bigger brain in a lurker. "What are you doing here?"

"Just leaving, actually." Jak got to his feet; silently glad he'd lightened out before Razer came barging in.

"You don't belong here anymore-"

"Razer," a warm hand touched his shoulder, "it's okay."

Jak smiled at his old and new friend, somewhat proud they could go their separate ways in peace now. He avoided the dark green gaze as he walked to the door though, pausing for just a moment. Jak pulled his goggles back off his head and shoved them in his pocket, it was polite, and after all he was in a hospital. "But please can you do me one favour?"

Razer pondered for a second. "What is that?"

"Just look after Daxter. Not for me, just because it hasn't been easy and perhaps I know better than anyone. I'd like you to know that too." Jak tapped the door frame and continued in leaving, "Oh! And one more thing, whatever you do. Don't spoil him. He'll think he can get away with anything."

Daxter opened his eyes and flipped up his middle finger, "Hey buddy, he doesn't need an instruction manual. Piss off." Jak would've thought it was meant to be a hostile statement if it hadn't been for the small smirk planted on the red head's face.

Jak laughed quickly, "You don't owe me anything, Razer. But please, just do this for Daxter. Treat him right." And with that, Jak was merely footsteps trailing away.

Didn't he owe Jak something? Razer smiled at his dozing burden. Jak did save his love's life, and to be cruel and honest -if he hadn't hurt Dax in the first place, Razer would still be alone.

"R. What's up?" Daxter questioned.

Razer stole a quick kiss before tucking Daxter into the white sheet properly, "I just have a debt to pay off." Daxter quirked an eyebrow, but didn't question the elder man as he left the room in pursuit of Jak.

-00—

It took no time to catch up to Jak, who was slowly making his way towards the exit. There was nothing he'd rather do than punch him square in the face for everything he'd done. All the pain he'd caused Daxter. All the anger he'd made Razer feel.

But, deep down he knew he should be grateful to the blonde for saving Daxter. It was an inner conflict he couldn't ignore, no matter how hard he tried.

There were a few stares from those who had seen their earlier meetings, but Razer ignored them as he strode over and tapped Jak on the shoulder. The blonde turned around, slightly startled look on his face.

"I wanted to thank you for rescuing him on the track." Razer said with difficulty. If someone had told him one day he would be thanking Jak for anything, he would've killed them on the spot. But, here he was, thanking his rival against his better judgment.

"I don't need your thanks. I didn't do it for you, I did it for him." It wasn't meant to come out how it did, but it didn't change the fact it hadn't sat right with the elder racer. Jak sighed. "I don't mean it like that. I just did what felt right, that's all." Razer's frown lessened.

"I wasn't there to hear what the doctor had to say-"

"He'll be fine in a day or so, he should be able to go home by then." Razer nodded, looking to the floor with a thoughtful frown. There was a tense silence filled with floor gazing before a hand appeared in Jak's line of vision. Jak looked up from his boots to the racer.

"I'll be the first one to swallow my pride and call a truce." Jak smirked, clasping hands with the racer in a handshake that seemed more like intimidation, than an actual treaty. "This does not mean I will not hunt you down and have you killed if you decide to pull any more stunts." Jak chuckled as they released each other's hands.

"You won't have to worry about that. I'm going to Spargus for a while. If he asks to see me-"

"He is free to do what he wants, seeing as how he isn't a child or mentally or physically disabled." It was as much of stab at Jak as it was confirmation that Razer wouldn't stop Daxter from contacting him. Jak nodded, and, after another awkward silence, turned and left. He had no more words for the racer -none that wouldn't upset the progress he'd just made with him, anyway. All he wanted to do was leave all this nonsense behind. All the horrible memories. All the fights.

He'd lost to Razer, which hurt his pride more than he would like to admit, but it wasn't the end -far from it. There was still a chance to make it up to Daxter for all the dumb shit he'd pulled. And maybe, one day, they could be more than friends again.

-00-

I would like to thank all the people who have followed this story from the beginning! emilyrosemary98, EvErYtHiNgDePeNdS, Saichin, and LynnGryphon. You are all beautiful people and I hope I lived up to any expectations you had with this story. I also want to thank everyone who's read this. Even though you haven't reviewed, we still love you. And SunnyHomes -who you should really check out- for being the muse this story needed. Without her, this would've been five chapters with nearly everyone dieing.

There will be a sequal sometime in the near future -hopefully co-writen by SunnyHomes, cuz she's now my muse. In the mean-time, for those of you who want general updates on future stories from Sunny and I, we have a Tumblr (Pr-anx). You can post questions there and will be the first to read anything we write before we post it here. -Pr-anx and SunnyHomes


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